The Nightmare Room
by prtsrxmyNiceSox
Summary: Four years post war, with the threat of the Death Eaters still ever present, Hermione is working for the Order, when a mission goes awry, leaving her trapped in Malfoy Manor.
1. Chapter 1

**The following is a fanfiction that I wrote by hand years ago. I found it in an old moleskine notebook, and decided I would post what I had written. After the support and inspiration I got from the FF community with Caught in His Net, I figured if there's anything to this story, you all could certainly help me find the inspiration to finish this tale. So please, be brutal, and give me your perceptions about what I've written so far.**

Hermione had never seen him in street clothes before. He'd always been wearing the equally ugly Hogwarts uniforms. No one looked good in those. Still, from the shoulders up, he seemed to always look good. Now, Hermione watched him from across the crowded floor. It had been years since she'd seen him in Hogwarts robes. Neither of them had even gotten to graduate because of the war. Hermione went off to help Harry find the Horcruxes, and Draco had gone into hiding. And now, four years later, he was back in society.

She was working for the Order, for though Voldemort was gone, the threat of the Death Eaters was ever present. Harry and Ron were gone as well. Harry had gone to Romania to live a few years with Charlie and escape the publicity he'd gotten (both good and bad) after defeating the Dark Lord. Ron was married and living in Brazil, enjoying the fortune the three had received for bounty on Voldemort's head. They had an equal share in it, only because Harry refused to take credit for killing Voldemort.

Hermione realized her mind was wandering and tried to focus again. Draco, whom she'd been watching moments before, had disappeared.

"Damn," she muttered softly, not letting the fury show on her face. She was working for the Order, disguised as a wealthy heir to a Spanish throne. She had a glamour spell on to change her hair, skin tone and eye colour. In a matter of moments she'd gone from a freckled auburn haired woman to a raven haired beauty with dark eyes and milky skin.

She'd been sent to crash this Death Eater soiree. Her mission? Watch Draco Malfoy, and if she could, get close enough to get information. Hermione guessed Draco had inherited the property. _And the job that went with it_, she though.

Then again, she'd always, always expected he'd end up like this. What she didn't expect was the suave Greek God that she'd seen. Before, he'd been a slimy, foul boy who had 'git' etched into every feature. Now, he was clearly a man. His hair was a bit longer than she remembered. He didn't slick it back, and Hermione was slightly certain he'd worn it that way at one point of their time at Hogwarts, but it hadn't been comely then. Now it seemed to fit him. It was light and trimmed to fall in front of an eye occasionally. His face seemed more weathered, more adult, perhaps. But his eyes, they hadn't changed a bit. They threw a shiver down her spine when their eyes had connected earlier. Hermione remembered it and shivered slightly.

"Cold?" asked a smooth voice behind her. Hermione spun gracefully, but could not conceal her shock.

"Mister Malfoy," she said in greeting, remembering her Spanish accent. "Your party is _muy elegante_," she complimented.

"I'm glad to hear you are enjoying yourself. Which brings me to the point of my visit – you aren't."

"Aren't what, _senor_?" she asked nervously.

"Enjoying yourself," he replied with a shadow of the smirk Hermione remembered all too well. Like the time he had enlarged her teeth and Snape had refused to admit he'd done anything wrong. Hermione let her memory go, and focused on what he was saying.

"An heiress like yourself can't really be having fun in Malfoy Manor without me, now can you?" he went on, slipping a hand under her elbow.

Hermione looked as affronted as her character would allow, but let him lead her to a side chamber. The room was richly, yet simply furnished. An armchair and fainting couch were the only furniture besides a small table etched with tiny glass serpents.

Draco sat in the black armchair, where his Armani jacket blended in well.

Hermione quickly realized he expected her to use the fainting couch, an obviously chauvinistic idea. She guessed he had used the room with quote a few other female guests. The faux heiress decided to avoid this thought, as it made her queasy.

She sat on the fainting couch and reclined with her feet up. Her red dress spilled over the sides of the low couch where the slits began.

Draco snapped his fingers and a house elf appeared with two steaming cups of a red liquid that looked awfully like…

"Red cider," he said, interrupting her thoughts as if he'd read them. She drank a bit and her head spun for a moment, then settled.

Draco suddenly seemed very intent on watching her. She drank again to avoid speaking, and soon the cider glass was empty.

"So," he said suddenly, making her heart jump guiltily. "Who are you and why are you impersonating a woman who died two weeks ago?" he demanded.

Hermione choked on the last bit of cider. _Veritaserum_! She fainted dead away before the potion could force her to answer.

xxx

Draco eyed the girl's body suspiciously. He didn't know where they'd gotten this girl, but she certainly did look like _Senorita_ Torres. If he hadn't watched her die, he would have believed it was her. She had the hair, the build, even the freckle on her lip.

"Wait…" muttered Draco. He whipped out his wand. "_Ennervate._" The girl's eyes opened groggily.

"_Finite Incantatem_" he said grimly. Hermione's eyes widened as they turned from black to a warm brown.

The Master of Malfoy Manor watched with growing anger. Who was this girl? He didn't recognize her. Her hair turned from black to a coffee brown. He watched as freckles blossomed across her cheeks. Her skin became darker, though he could tell she was still pale with fear. The transformation stopped, and Draco found himself standing over a brunette of about his age. She was fair as far as looks were concerned. Her eyes opened and Draco had a flash of insight. But then, it was gone, replaced by the feeling that he'd seen her before.

"Who are you?" he asked. She struggled to keep her mouth shut and merely shook her head. He could tell she was trying to fight the _Veritaserum_.

"_What," he asked, "Did you take a will-strengthening potion or something?"_

The look in her eyes was now arrogant instead of fearful as she nodded. He lifted his father's cane and struck her across the face with it. She fell off the couch, knocked out. Blood flowed freely from a cut just beneath her eye. He hoped she went blind.

Draco snapped and a house elf arrived. "Take her to the tower," commanded the man. "And lock her in." he turned and left the room to return to the party. He would deal with her later.

The house elf Arietta used her magic to lift the body and let it float before her to the tower. Arietta wondered what the beautiful girl had done to be sent to the Nightmare room.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione found herself in a room. It was dark and smelled of something like mold and rat poison. She turned around, but couldn't see anything. There was no light source, and Hermione couldn't see anything. She decided to see how far the room extended. She put out her arms and walked forward, but she felt nothing.

"Ow!" she cried, hopping up and down. Her toe had run into something.

She pulled out her wand and said "_Lumos_!" Her wand tip lit and bathed her in a 3 foot radius around her. She had kicked a box. Hermione bent and pried it open, then jumped back, terrified. A gigantic serpent slithered out of the box! It seemed impossibly huge with fangs the size of Hermione's arm. It quickly wrapped around her and went in for the kill.

Then just as the fangs were about to pierce her flesh, Hermione felt the world around her start to shake. The snake disappeared just as the stiles in the floor started to fall. They left huge, square gaping holes in the floor through which light poured. Hermione backed against the wall to avoid falling, but it was no use. She stepped on a loose tile and began to fall.

Hermione wrenched her eyes open and sat up to find herself in a black curtained bed. The curtains were drawn and Hermione was almost afraid to open them. She decided to stand on the bed and open them quickly in case the snake was still out there.

_One… Two…_ she mentally counted, _Three!_

The curtains were pulled back of no effort on Hermione's part and she lost her balance. She fell off the bed onto the cold floor, almost knocking over the house elf there. Hermione got up sheepishly.

"Hello Miss," said the little elf. She was holding a tray with orange juice, toast, bangers and porridge on it. "I've brought you breakfast. You slept right through yesterday. I'm Arietta by the way."

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and eagerly took the food the house elf offered her. As she scarfed down the porridge, Hermione took notice of the room. The bed was large and made of dark wood. The bed hangings were forest green, not black. A large wardrobe was at the other end, the wood of which matched the bed. Light filtered in through two huge arched windows to the left and right of the bed. Hermione looked straight out and saw only sky. She guessed they were in a tower, or the top floor of somewhere.

She stood and walked over to the window and looked down. A maze-like garden lie below. There were no flowers. On second glance Hermione realized it _was _ a maze. There was someone in it! Hermione watched the figure with a little curiosity. The figure turned and his white blond hair shone in the sunlight.

Then it clicked. Hermione's memories came flooding back. She was in Malfoy Manor! She spun and saw the house elf still standing there.

"Wh-what am I doing her? Why is he keeping me?" she asked the little elf.

Arietta wrung her hands in her pillowcase and said "I know not, lady. He told me only to bring you breakfast and to open the shutters."

"That's all?" asked Hermione, a little desperately.

"No Miss, he said you should use any clothes you need in the wardrobe. You may feel free to make yourself at home. But you must eat with Master for meals, and you may not go into the dungeons or else…" she trailed off.

"Or what?" asked Hermione.

"I may not speak of what happens in the dungeons," said the nervous little elf. Then, Arietta scurried out the door.

Hermione went back to the window. Draco was gone. She decided to take a tour around the Manor to find her way around better. After all, she _was_ a spy. That reminded Hermione; she needed to wipe her mind of last night's memories. She tugged at a chain around her neck, and the vial on it fell into her hand.

It was quite handy, this portable pensieve. She could put important memories in it to peruse later. She had brought it to serve as evidence if she found out anything crucial.

Hermione touched her wand to her temps and took a silvery strand of memory. Placing it in the vial, she capped it and put it back under her dress. It was like a diary, only less work and more discreet. Then it hit her. The dress. She was still wearing her red dress.

She went to the mahogany wardrobe and looked in. There was a long mirror against the door and it was filled with dresses. They were beautiful; long, short, light, dark, old and new. Hermione guessed they'd belonged to Narcissa Malfoy. She felt it was weird wearing a dead woman's clothes, but they were beautiful.

She reached for a long black dress, but then thought better of it. Instead she tried on a tan shift. It grazed her knees and the sleeves were loose, but it was made of a silky floaty material that felt like a dream. At the bottom of the closet, Hermione found a pair of brown leather boots. They were a little big, but the heels were manageable and the top of the boot reached far enough to make up for the shortness of the dress.

Hermione left her dress and things on the floor, if only to give Arietta something to do. She had realized after her childish attempts at house elf liberation that they were bound by very old magic, and truly deeply enjoyed their work.

She opened the door and peered out. The hall was dark, but after her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she saw it was just a stopping point at the top of a long stairwell.

Hermione started down the stair, her dress floating around her. She looked for all the world like a specter, a bit of imagination unleashed into the world of men. She passed tiny alcoves lined with candles. She had counted thirteen by the time she reached the end.

Ahead was a hall dimly lit by sconces. The walls were draped with heavy velvet curtains. Hermione pulled one aside, but no window hid behind it. Hermione scrunched up her nose. How odd! She pulled a few more panels but there were no windows. She decided to ignore this strange design and moved on.

She found herself in a hall of sorts. There were benches along either side of the long hall. On the short walls at either end were racks filled with foils and other weapons. She guessed it was a fencing room. Hermione walked along the wall of weaponry and her hand landed on a small dagger. It had a sheath with a belt, presumably for the upper arm. Hermione took it without guilt and strapped it instead to her thigh. The shift covered her weapon and Hermione felt far better armed than unarmed. For one, she was glad the dress was short. If need be, she could reach her dagger more easily.

Hermione whipped the palm sized weapon out, practicing. When she felt more secure with pulling out the dagger, she examined it. The hilt was made like a twisted old tree trunk and encrusted with jewels. The metal was silvery, but it seemed lighter than real silver. Perhaps it was platinum.

Hermione flipped the dagger over. In and amongst the sapphire-esque jewels were 4 inscriptions: S, G, H, and the largest, R. They formed a cross. The shape disturbed her. She slid the dagger back into its place and left the room.

She explored the Manor for almost an hour, though she felt she had barely brushed the surface. Above her head, there came a chime, then 12 tones. It was a grandfather clock. Hermione looked up at it. Both hands pointed up to XII. Two stone owls perched atop the cherry wood clock. Their eyes seemed to have an ethereal glow to them. She half expected them to hoot or ruffle their wings, but they did not. They were simply stone guardians of the pendulum which hid behind thick frosted glass.

Hermione's stomach grumbled as if on cue. She decided to go down to the ground floor and seek out the kitchen. She remembered with a start that she had to eat meals with Draco. She doubted that he would forgive her lateness. She flew down to the main stair and stopped abruptly in front of a window with a porthole-like window. Inside, she saw house elves preparing lunch. Good, she wasn't late yet. She pushed through the door and looked through the mayhem for Arietta. After a moment, the little elf found her instead.

Arietta grabbed Hermione by the hem of her dress and pulled her to another door. "You're late!" she said, making sure the girl looked acceptable. "Master eats at 8, 12 and 6. He will not be happy if you are late again. As it is, we've had to delay soup for you." She pushed the girl out the door an hoped she could pass for the woman Master expected her to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione fell through the doorway rather ungracefully, but straightened up when she found a pair of grey eyes on her. Lifting her eyes to look past him, she sat the place set for her, at the opposite end of the table. As soon as she sat down, three house elves came in, holding a large tureen of soup. Arietta, who seemed by far the most mature of the elves, held a ladle and served soup first to Draco, then Hermione.

Hermione sipped the soup from her spoon carefully and silently. For no matter what happened, she was still gathering information for the Order and would not risk her mission by engaging in potentially dangerous small talk. On the other hand, she'd probably have to speak to him eventually. After all, no matter how well he fed her or how beautiful the dresses he lent her were, she was still a prisoner.

At the other end of the table, the master of the house watched his guest coolly. The dress she was wearing suited her in a way it had never suited his mother. Narcissa had been far too pale to wear light colours with any efficacy. However, Lucius had wanted Narcissa to wear something new to his weekly parties.

Pity, those Death Eaters had been willing to exhaust the Malfoy hospitality, but were too high and mighty to keep him from dying in Azkaban. No matter how strong Lucius had seemed to be, he hadn't lasted two months in Azkaban before begging for the kiss. The Dementors had been happy to oblige. Some of the Death Eaters had exalted Lucius for his choice. Better to die than be forced to betray the confidence of Lord Voldemort. But Draco knew the truth. His father had been weak.

Arietta took his soup bowl away, and Draco started ever so slightly. Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't noticed emptying his soup bowl. Then, a cold pheasant breast was put on his plate along with diced potatoes and zucchini cut into thin spirals.

Hermione poked at the meat that she sincerely hoped was chicken. She took a small bite and knew instantly that it was not chicken and worse yet, it was cold.

Draco suppressed a laugh at the expression on her face. "Don't like it?" he said, disguising his amusement for concern.

Hermione's resolve broke and she replied, "I cannot eat what I don't know."

"Pheasant. It's old pheasant," he replied to the culturally illiterate girl. "Yes, it's supposed to be served cold you silly girl."

He seemed less than amused now, and Hermione felt the ghost of a shiver run down her spine. She ate the rest of her lunch silently.

The last of the pheasant was cleared away and replaced with a small dish of lemon chiffonade. She lifted her spoon to taste the dessert and caught sight of her reflection in it. Even in the upside down image, Hermione noticed a cut under her right eye. It was slightly J shaped. In a sudden flash, Hermione remembered being hit across the face by Draco with some sort of staff, just before she'd fallen unconscious. She would have to heal it tonight to stop any scarring.

Hermione looked up and noticed the blonde staring at her. Quickly she bent to eat her chiffonade.

Draco stood and left the room. He retired to his study, which he always did after lunch. There, he normally worked for two hours until tea time. The house elves didn't know what he did in there, for his desk was always cleaned off and locked when they brought him his tea. Master Malfoy was a mystery to them even more so than the girl that was staying there.

Some may call her a woman because of age, but they could tell she still had the heart of a child. They could tell by the way she walked that she had never been terribly girly. Her walk also had a suspicious gait to it as though she didn't truly trust anything or anyone.

Hermione noticed a burly looking house elf eyeing her, and she got up from the table and out of the hall faster than she thought she could. In her haste, however, Hermione wandered into a room she'd never seen before. It was dimly lit like most of the Manor and lined with portraits. Hermione brushed the placard off below a picture of a sallow skinned blonde. It read _Aurealis Malfoy_. The man in the portrait watched her suspiciously for a moment, and then went back to shooting sparks at a not entirely happy looking grindylow. Hermione walked along the wall, looking at the portraits. Most seemed sinister, though Phailen Malfoy looked like he was from the wrong side of the family tree. The last portrait was of Draco Malfoy, his death date not yet filled in. Next to his, between Narcissa and Draco, there was a blank spot. Hermione quickly realized Lucius's picture had been removed. Clearly Draco wasn't planning on toasting his father's memory. She wondered what he had done with the portrait.

Hermione didn't ponder long, though, because a gleam at the end of the hallway grabbed her attention. Upon closer examination, she realized it was a doorknob. Just as she was about to touch it, there was a tug at the hem of her dress. Hermione looked down and saw a tiny house elf.

"That's M-m-master's study, Miss. He doesn't like to be disturbed," the house elf said nervously.

"Oh," was all Hermione could reply. Immediately she tried to memorize where she was. Once she figured out Draco's schedule, she'd probably be able to sneak in and comb the office for information. She let the house elf take her back out to the main stairwell, and on the way, Hermione made a mental note to put this memory into her pensieve vial. She needed to be sure she had a perfect account of how to get to the study.

Later, in the tower room, Hermione went through all the drawers and searched every nook and cranny of the room. She found that there were no obvious enchantments on it other than a charm to stop light filtering in the windows and bed curtains. In one of the drawers she found a book. It was black bound with etchings of roses. The pages were blank, but they felt to Hermione as though they held great secrets. But someone had wiped it clean, why?

She decided not to worry about it. By and by, time passed, and Hermione was startled to realize it was 5 o'clock. At 5:15, Arietta peered into the door. Hermione turned her attention from the sunset outside her window to the small elf.

"Miss," said Arietta, "Do you require help dressing?"

"No!" Hermione replied, shocked. "Wait, why?"

"Master requests you should dress for dinner."

"Dress… up?"

"Yes. He prefers the black dress." The little elf opened the wardrobe and pulled out the black dress. It was old fashioned in style, with a corseted top and full skirt. Hermione didn't like it terribly much; black had never suited her. Even so, she let Arietta dress her and the end result was rather astonishing. Despite the fact that it was made for another woman, it fit her all too well. This was probably because of the corset.

She guessed Narcissa had been smaller chested than her, because she had a little trouble breathing. The dress was quite low cut in the front. But the part above the neckline had been filled with black lace. The lace reached about an inch up her neck. The dress had sleeves that reminded her of a princess gown. They were short, but poofed out slightly. The skirt was long and the underskirts rustled when she moved.

Hermione sat down to let Arietta try to fix her hair somehow. She didn't notice what the house elf did while she tried to tame her locks, but the end result was a beautiful cascade of ringlets. Hermione had never seen it so beautiful and started a bit when she looked in the hand mirror.

She felt like hugging the elf but refrained if only to avoid acting out of the norm. She did however thank Arietta and promise to be on time to supper.

When the house elf left, Hermione's attention was drawn again to the black book. It seemed as though the dress and the journal went together in some small, careless way. She didn't know why she had this thought just then, but something tied the two together.

The clock on her bedside chimed the arrival of 5:45. She made her way out of her tower room, down the long stair, through a long dim hall and down the main staircase. Sliding her hand down the marble banister, Hermione turned her head to the right and saw Draco standing there.

Draco watched the girl descend the stairs- his stairs- and he felt like he had seen her before. He brushed the feelings aside. After all, the dress had been his mother's. He wondered for the umpteenth time who she was. He was dying to know, but hadn't asked. For what he needed her for, she didn't have a name. She didn't need one. That would only endear her to him. Besides, he had a feeling she'd just lie to him anyway.

She was just like any other girl with all the seduction of a serpent – along with all of its treachery. Still he wondered what her secret agenda was. After all, she hadn't demanded release, or tried to escape. Maybe she knew how dangerous he could really be. Or maybe the nightmare room and already affected her. He had no time to make observations in his notebook now. She was nearly to the dining room door.

On an impulse, he held the door for her with a perfectly manicured hand. That hand was attached to a slender yet muscular arm. The arm was covered in a silver sleeve, over which was an Armani suit oat. He had no tie and the top button of his shirt was open, baring his throat. He always dressed for dinner, ever since the days when he was a boy avoiding his father's cane and hiding in his mother's skirts. One never knew when company would drop in for dinner. Though, over the years the company had always been Death Eaters. Normally, they were business calls, never terribly social. Draco would be forced to stay at the table until 8, when he would be sent to bed.

Draco stepped out of his memories and into the dining room. He sat at his rightful place, seeing that the girl had already sat down at the opposite end. House elves started bringing out salad and dressing, but Draco paid little attention. He was watching the girl opposite him. She placed her napkin on her lap and smiled lightly at one of the house elves. She showed a sign of strange elegance and self-assurance. She smiled almost as if it were automatic.

Draco remembered when he was very young. His mother had that same kind of smile, but it wasn't exactly the same later. As Draco grew, Narcissa began to smile only when it was expected of her.

Hermione looked up and saw Draco watching her. Her smile disappeared and she bent over her salad. The lettuce was dark, lush and covered in raspberry vinaigrette. She ate it to avoid his eye.

Draco watched her eat her salad. She was dainty and polite, and even cut up the tomatoes. Draco realized two things then. She was not just a girl, first of all. She was a woman. And secondly, she had scruples. If he approached her right, he could find out who she was and possibly why she was there. He thought that just finding out her name wouldn't hurt.

A house elf came and replaced his salad (still untouched) with a plate of sushi. In and amongst it were calamari, caviar and rice wrapped with seaweed. He ate it mindlessly. This was the best rule with sushi. It tasted great as long as you didn't think about it.

At the other end of the table, Hermione ate the sushi for the most part, but the calamari spirals were just a bit too much for her. The next course came, by and by, and it was filet mignon with a side of mushrooms and angel hair zucchini. It all seemed very reach and caloric to Hermione, but she didn't mind much. After most of the food was gone, Draco spoke. His voice shook Hermione at first, since she hadn't heard him speak in quite a while.

"Well, you've been here f r quite some time now, and you've yet to tell me your name," he said coolly.

She scowled ever so slightly. "What need is there for a name? You're keeping me here against my will! Call me Maria, if you must, or Narcissa or Joan or Danielle for all that it matters. None of these are my name, and my name is not myself. You'll find that no matter how many times you ask, I won't tell you!" she finished angrily.

Two house elves ducked back into the kitchen, cowering in fear.

"Well," he said calmly. "At least I'll know what your name isn't."

Hermione tried to convince herself to stay angry. His wit didn't infuriate her so badly though. The frightened house elves returned to take the plates and Arietta brought out a cake slathered with cream and fresh fruit. It was slightly out of season, but Hermione supposed Draco Malfoy had the money to buy strawberries and mangoes at steep overseas prices.

"Margo?" said Draco.

Hermione looked up after a moment. He was watching her. "No!" she replied. A few moments passed as they ate their desserts in silence.

"Ann?"

"No."

"Brooke?"

"Nope."

"Faye?"

"Yeah… no."

"I'll figure it out eventually."

"I'm sure you will," she replied, sure he wouldn't.


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner was cleared away and Hermione stood to go. She didn't know what Draco planned to do after dinner, but she didn't want to be there. Then, with finality, the table and chairs simply vanished. Her eyes flicked to Draco, who seemed unperturbed.

The fire roared to life at one end of the room. Beside it, a large armchair sprang up and a small table accompanied it. Then, the panels on either side of the mantle turned, revealing two shelves of thick books. Hermione's eyes lit up as she saw them. Books were just about her favorite things in the world.

Draco noticed the sparkle that sprang up in the beautiful stranger's eyes as quickly as the fire had. She had an instantaneous sprite-like happiness that he had never seen in the Malfoy home. Almost as an afterthought, and by no conscious command from Draco, another armchair appeared, this one patterned with roses and butterflies on the ivory background.

Draco ignored this and sat in the black chair. He picked up the book next to him and opened it to some predetermined page. He began to read, but the girl's immobility and silence distracted him. Looking up from the book, he said, "You may stay, if you wish, and read. Or you can go back to the Ni- I mean your room. I make it a habit to read every night.

She still did not move.

"BOO!" he yelled, baring his hands like claws. She jumped nearly a foot into the air. Then, with a defiant look at the Master of the house, Hermione went to the book shelf. If he was trying to scare her off, well she wouldn't give him the pleasure.

She ran her finger along the spines of the books until she landed on one she hadn't read. She pulled it down, turned abruptly and flounced to the other chair angrily. Or at least she thought it was an angry flounce, but Draco found it too funny not to laugh at. His cynical, cold laughter only angered Hermione further, so she buried herself in the book. It was l'Phantom di Opera in its original French. She spoke French fluently from all the time she'd spent there.

The story enchanted her. IT was told from the point of view of two men who came to own a theatre, l'Opera Populaire. IN the tale, the opera house was haunted by a Phantom who stole away sopranos and killed caretakers. He even dropped a chandelier on the stage! But he was only a man; a lonely man who had never known love. He began to love Christine, who repaid his love by leaving him for her childhood sweetheart, Raoul.

Hermione was moved to tears for the Phantom by the end, and though she felt Draco's eyes on her, she took no heed. She simply closed the book and stared into the dwindling fire. She realized with a start that she'd been reading for hours. Without a word, she placed the book on the shelf and left the room.

Draco watched her go, and immediately curiosity got the best of him. He picked up her book from the shelf and looked it over. It was one of his mother's favorites. What sparked his interest the most was that it was in French. Did she hail from Paris? He would use this to his advantage.

Up in his mother's old room, Hermione was emptying her memories into her mini pensieve. Once her mind was sufficiently empty, she fell back on the bed exhaustedly. Downstairs, she'd been too exhilarated to sleep, but now her fatigue was catching up with her. Before sleep took her, however, she had an inexplicable yearning to open the window hangings and look at the moon. She stood and pulled the string on the draperies – but nothing happened. She tried to open them the hard way, but they wouldn't budge. Hermione decided to think about it in the morning and went to sleep.

That night she was once again plagued with nightmares that she wouldn't recall in the morning.

Hermione was once again awakened by Arietta opening the window curtains. Sunlight assaulted her eyelids and Hermione was conscious once more. Arietta had brought a cup of tea along as well. It was 7:30 in the morning. She knew breakfast was at 8, so she needed to dress quickly. She chose a blue teal length dress with a lacy underskirt. On her feet she wore the brown boots again, and for good measure, slipped the dagger into the top of the boot like a sheath. The skirts covered it well enough, and she was sure "Master Malfoy" would never care to check.

Breakfast was completely different than any of the meals she'd had in the Manor. Instead of being served by the house elves course by course, it was a smorgasbord of fruits, meats, waffles, toast and ever breakfast food imaginable. Hermione tucked into some porridge and breakfast sausages. For a moment or two she was almost happy.

Then her eyes locked with Draco's and she recalled once more that she was a prisoner. No matter how well he fed her or how much she enjoyed being waited on, she was bound. Bound by her duty to the Order as much as she was bound to… him.

Her mood wasn't spoiled for long however, because Draco, who was clearly not a morning person, spilled coffee down his front. He cursed colorfully, and cleaned it off quickly, but she found the whole thing funny.

Smiling, she silently excused herself from the table and made her way to the long clear windows that dominated one wall of the expansive hall. Beyond the glass, Hermione saw a long row of trees, like a division through the land surrounding Malfoy Manor. To the left of the tree line was the maze she had spied from her tower the day before. To the right was a garden more like she was accustomed to. Well, then again, it was far grander than any garden she'd seen outside of Buckingham Palace.

Flowers grew everywhere, exotic and bright. Here and there were shaped shrubberies that looked like figures from mythology. She spied a centaur and some sort of merperson. Then again, in the wizarding world, mythology was reality.

Draco watched her at the window. How she could be so interested in the gardens was beyond him. Still, he walked over to the glass near her, but not too near. He pointed to the right. "That's the North gardens over there," he said.

"And what's that?" Hermione asked, pointing to the left.

"It's- a maze," he replied reluctantly. "But you're not allowed in. No one is."

Hermione was shocked by how quickly his tone went from unemotional to cold, closed and forbidding. She nodded, not wanting to admit her fear, and turned away.

When she looked over her shoulder again, he had moved to the mantle and was brushing off his coattails in a businesslike manner.

"I have business to attend to," he said, grabbing a handful of shimmering dust from the mantle. He threw the dust into the fire and was borne away on green flames.

Hermione made a mental note of where the floo powder was kept, and then went to her room. She had business of her own to attend to.

Upstairs, she only took enough time to grab her wand, before going downstairs again. As she went, she fumbled with the chain around her neck. Finding the vial, she touched the tip of her wand to it. Concentrating on the room she had found the other day, she muttered, "Guide me." Like the ghost of a long lost celestial roadmap, a series of dots and lines shone before her. A blinking dot represented her, while the lines were the walls on either side of her. An arrow showed her which way to go.

Hermione followed the arrow for a ways. She realizes whenever she lost her concentration the image would fade until she thought once more of the room. She came to the hall of portraits. The door to Draco's study was in sight. So as to avoid setting any silent alarms, she cast a disillusionment charm on herself. Of course, any way aural magi related alarms would surely be set off immediately. _Oh well,_ she thought. _I'm prepared to take the chance. Besides without taking chances, you never get anywhere._

The map completely disappeared for lack of concentration, but Hermione didn't need it anymore. She strode down the hall, feeling the painted eyes on either side following her. She boldly took hold of the doorknob and went in.

Looking around, she saw that the office was completely unremarkable. She was slightly disappointed. She'd been expecting something sadistic and evil. Instead, she found a desk with a chair, two bookshelves, and two filing cabinets. The small couch along one wall was presumably for company, but after the treatment she got from touching the doorknob, Hermione doubted Draco ever had pleasurable company in his office.

Most absurdly odd were the two filing cabinets. One was tall and looked as though it hadn't been touched for ages. The other was short with an almost medical cleanliness.

She decided to look at the older one first. She guessed that Malfoy kept it that dirty for a reason. The tall one's misuse also suggested some sort of neglect that made her assume it was not something he cared for.

She opened it gingerly, not wanting to leave any incriminating fingerprints. Though, she was sure any magical signature left on the cabinet would be easily picked up by anyone with auror-like skills.

The first drawer wasn't locked and creaked open with some protest. IT was full of plain manila files. Tabs were marked with dates starting in 1980 and going through 1998. "The year Lucius died," she noted to herself.

It looked like there was a folder for 10 months out of the year- September through June.

She eased the drawer shut, but not before taking a file at random, June 1996, and putting it under her arm. The next drawer was full of various vials and syringes. Had Lucius had a medical condition? That may have been why he died so quickly in Azkaban.

Taped inside the drawer front was a key. She gingerly removed and inspected it. It was very old fashioned with a serpentine design around the top. She slipped this into her boot and checked the next door – locked. The serpentine key was too large.

Then, there was a noise outside the door. She moved closer to her only exit and the door swung open. Hermione held her breath.

Arietta came in and began tidying the already pristine office. Surprisingly, the normally well-composed elf looked… nervous. Hermione slipped out the door and up to her room before removing the disillusionment charm.

Arietta watched as the girl left. She had an easily recognizable aura and Arietta knew she was in there immediately. As she wiped the air clean of the girl's magical aura, the maternal house elf hoped sincerely that the girl knew what she was doing.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco returned from his business venture a half hour before dinner would be served. Hermione watched from her large window as he pulled up to the front door in the Malfoy carriage. She could just make out a coat of arms on the door. _Why didn't he return by floo?_ Hermione wondered. She watched for a moment longer until she saw him tip his head in her direction, pale eyes squinting against the sun. Hermione came to her senses and backed away from the window – the less he knew about her, the better.

Dinner that night was Duck l'Orange. Hermione couldn't help but notice that the youngest Malfoy had expensive, if not simply strange taste in food. Hermione decided if she had a whole slew of gourmet cooking house elves (which she never would), she'd have them cook more normal dishes. But just to keep them up with their cooking skills, she'd have them make fabulous desserts. She was a simple girl with a huge sweet tooth for German chocolate.

Draco found himself once again watching the girl at his table. Though she was certainly not friend, he wasn't quite sure if he could call her foe anymore. Her presence was not a threatening one, in fat she seemed to calm him in a way. And that was not mentioning the strange familiarity her features held.

She stayed to read with him again that night, but after one hour, Draco became antsy. He shut his book smartly and watched her read. A strand of brown hair fell into her eyes and nearly subconsciously, she wound her finger around it and tucked it back into her wavy mass of hair.

After a moment or two, Hermione realized she was being watched. She looked up into the gaze of the platinum haired boy and blushed. He did not smile or acknowledge her, but simply remained staring. Time seemed to slow to a most uncomfortable crawl.

To break the silence and still her nerves, Hermione voiced something she'd been thinking about lately.

"Whatever has made you so cold, Draco Malfoy?"

**A/N: That catches me up to what I had originally written. It turns out retyping my writing was a lot harder than simply fabricating a new story, but I am happy I got the chance to relive what I had written. Sorry for making this chapter so short, but I need to gather my thoughts before I continue.**

**If anyone has any predictions, ideas or suggestions for where the story should go, please leave it in the reviews, or even in my inbox. I would love to hear what you think so far!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Whatever has made you so cold, Draco Malfoy?" she asked in a challenging voice.

"What makes you think I wouldn't remember who you are, Hermione Granger?" Draco retorted.

Hermione gasped, but kept her composure. "So," she said, "when did you figure it out?"

"Just now, when you were messing with your hair. It reminded me of potions class, whenever you'd get stuck with Weasley or someone equally stupid, you would twirl your hair because you were agitated at having to do all the work," Draco replied.

"Don't presume to know what I was thinking then _or_ now, Malfoy," she said, scowling.

"Don't presume that I care what you're thinking now, Granger," he spat back with equal contempt.

"Well, fine, if you don't care to know what I think, and you know who I am, then why am I still here?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"I asked you a question that first night, and you never answered it," he said cryptically.

"What question?" Hermione asked, sick of his wordplay and mind games.

"I asked why you were impersonating a dead woman. Sadly, you chose that moment to give in to your feminine wiles and faint on me," he said, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Would I have warranted an invitation otherwise?' Hermione asked pettily.

"No, but I doubt you would want to be in my home unless there was an ulterior motive, especially considering what happened to you here," he said, indicating the faint scar on her arm. She tightened her fist and the white scar tissue stood out from the skin, spelling mudblood.

"Was there anyone at that party _without_ an ulterior motive?" she questioned him. "If it weren't for ulterior motives, I doubt your dinner parties would have many attendants."

This seemed to anger Draco, and Hermione took his rage as a compliment. "Get out!" he said, his words dripping ice.

"You've advised me to make myself at home Mr. Malfoy, and I intend to," Hermione said settling down into the chair more comfortably.

"OUT!" he screamed, with a rage that Hermione could not ignore. She looked up into his eyes fearfully, and saw them change ever so lightly. The pupil seemed to elongate vertically. Hermione ran from the room immediately, and she heard furniture being tossed about the room before the door slammed behind her.

She did not stop running until she slammed the tower door shut behind her. She leaned back against the door, panting heavily. The ruby coloured dress she had worn to dinner was clearly not for running, and she felt stifled just wearing it. As she peeled herself out of the dress, sweat running down her body, she realized wearing a red dress had probably sparked his memory of her as a Gryffindor. Now he knew who she was. This wasn't so bad; sure, he'd be more careful around her and she'd lost the element of surprise, but she had gotten something from the office earlier.

Hermione was still too hot from running in taffeta to imagine putting on a nightgown, so she just sat at the desk in her lingerie. It was annoying that she only had the corset and lacy underwear from the party, but she was not about to wear a dead woman's under things. If only she had thought to bring her beaded bag…

She reached down to the bottom left drawer of the vanity and tapped it three times with her wand to unlock the charm she'd put on it. If anyone had tried to open the drawer, that person would have been privy to a banshee's shriek – not the most comfortable thing to hear, even artificially. She pulled out the file folder she'd nicked from the office.

Moving the hand mirror and bottles of perfume out of her way, she spread it open in front of her. The writing was tiny and scrupulous. The first page had dates and lengths of time in a table of sorts. She flipped on behind it. These pages seemed to be a firsthand account of some kind, almost like a journal entry.

_June 1, 1996_

_I lost my temper today. It was approximately 3 in the afternoon, and the stupid elf had forgotten my tea. The elves know I don't like to be left waiting, but still they left me there, with company no less. I went into the kitchen but instead of having the elves simply punish themselves, I was so angry, I screamed at them all. I don't know how long I yelled, but I started sweating, and felt the transformation begin. I hadn't taken my serum, so it was quick and unstoppable. Thankfully the company was Severus, who took it as an opportunity to learn more about this deformity. He advised me that he'd have a new attempt at a serum soon._

_June 16, 1996_

_Still no new serum from Severus. I can't take the old one since it gives me hives. Trying not to get angry, but everything that woman does is poisonous to my resolve. I swear, one of these days she shall end up dead and still not know what she did wrong. Why did I saddle myself with such an unruly woman? I guess there was a time when I thought she could break the curse, but I was a fool._

Hermione was very confused by the passages she read. Lucius spoke of a deformity, and later a curse. She didn't know to what he was referring. Even more confusing was the style. It was written almost as an explanation of his behavior but also seemed somewhat like a journal. The only odd thing was that the pages in the file were magical copies made from another source. Why were they copied, and where was the original?

Hermione tried to wrap her mind around what she read, and she realized that the behaviors Lucius described for June 1st were similar to what she had experienced that night. Was this something hereditary, or was she just reading too much into Draco's behavior?

She lay out on the bed and tried to clear her mind. It must have been after midnight, but somehow she wasn't tired. It must have been because compared to her normal exercise regimen and high stress lifestyle, this past few days had seemed almost sedentary. She wasn't expending enough energy in the day to be tired at bedtime. The heavy caloric meals weren't helping either.

She rolled over and stared at the stubborn curtain that did not open after sundown. She wondered if there was a way to remove the charm, since she dearly missed the moon. Her eyes scanned the room and she was drawn again to the black journal. She made a mental note to try to figure out what was going on with it the next day.

xxx

Hermione dreamt again of the snake, bright green and impossibly long. In this dream it slithered its way around her legs, ensnaring her as it coiled around her body. She tried to fight it, but it was too strong. It was so much bigger than any snake she'd ever seen, even a little bigger than Nagini. The snake finished wrapping her up, and its head faced hers. She looked onto its eyes, and they transformed, into grey human eyes.

xxx

Hermione tried to wake up before arietta arrived, but the darkness of the curtains made her drift back off to sleep. When the elf opened the curtains, Hermione had dreamt the same dream over again twice. This time she remembered it, but she didn't know what it meant. She thanked arietta as usual, and dressed for the day.

Today she decided to go with trousers. Narcissa had some brown Capri pants that would fit just into the top of Hermione's boots. They were a little tight on her, but not terribly obscene. She paired it with a black short sleeved blouse with a drawstring neckline. Loosening it to show a little cleavage (which she felt wouldn't hurt her case in dealing with Malfoy), she tied the string in a bow.

She took a seat at the table for breakfast and was surprised to see that she was there before Malfoy. According to Arietta, meal times were _very_ important to "Master Malfoy," so she didn't know what was taking him.

Just before the grandfather clock struck 8, Draco entered the dining room, looking a little worse for the wear than yesterday. His eyes were bloodshot and lined with dark circles. He looked almost… hung over? But other than the party, she hadn't seen Draco drink anything alcoholic since she'd arrived. Maybe he was a secret drunk? She pondered the options as she chose her breakfast.

She avoided her usual porridge today, because despite the whole grains in it, it was just too heavy when she wasn't as physically active as normal. She chose some fruit and a half piece of wheat toast and a glass of orange juice.

"Is that all you're going to eat?" Draco asked, looking up from a massive stack of pancakes.

"Trying to fatten me up, Malfoy?" she asked snidely.

Draco scoffed and said, "Just making sure my guest is happy."

"Speaking of which, why the hell am I here, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, keeping her tone even and controlling her anger. "You know who I am, why would you want me in your home?"

"Once can always use company," Draco said, focusing on his waffles.

"You can't hold me here like a prisoner!" she said exasperatedly. "I'll leave before I let you detain me here any further!" She didn't really want to leave, because she hadn't gotten any good intelligence, but she needed to expedite these encounters so she could get some info.

"You are not a prisoner, Granger," he said coldly. "You are free to go, just remember, you will not survive the trip out the front door with my wards in place."

"Why would wards keep a person _in_?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"My wards do not allow a muggle or a muggleborn to pass by them unscathed," Draco said matter-of-factly. "No matter the direction of travel, the result will be the same."

"Then remove the wards!" Hermione said, suddenly feeling more trapped than ever before.

"Impossible. They can only be opened once every lunar cycle, and as you know, they were opened for my party earlier this week."

"So I'm stuck here for 23 more days?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"I'm afraid so, so why don't you get your attitude in check. I assure you I want nothing to do with a mudblood like you, and yet I've been kind enough to allow you to stay in my home, eat my food and enjoy my books."

"I'd rather you hadn't, so I'd have more reason to hate you," she spat back.

"Would you rather I threw you out the moment I realized who you were and watching your body char and disintegrate?" he watched her shocked expression carefully, and then said, "I thought not."

"Yeah, well, your food's too fattening anyway. I need exercise. How far out the yard are the wards?" she asked, resigned to being there.

"You won't be allowed outside. If you need exercise, I have a room you can use," he said, mildly shocked at her change in demeanor.

"What room is this?" she asked.

"I'll show you," he said, holding open the door that exited the dining room.

They went across the main floor, past a few parlors and sitting areas. Why anyone needed more than one sitting area was beyond Hermione. Next they passed the ballroom, and soon she saw the small antechamber Draco had taken her to at the party. At the very end of the hall, there was a door that she had seen before. Draco held the door for her again and she entered. She had to admit he had manners at least.

The room was the fencing hall she'd found on her first time wandering the castle. She could have sworn it was on another floor, but now she recognized the foils on one end and the jackets, masks and other equipment on the other end.

"Really," Hermione deadpanned. "You want to fence? Against me?"

"If you think you're up to it," he said with a smirk. This was more like the old Malfoy she knew; always up for a challenge, even if he was bound to lose. His arrogance never let him think he could lose. That was his undoing in most cases.

Hermione stepped to the right side of the room and donned a mask and jacket. Draco turned on the spot and was fully dressed in a full fencer's outfit. Hermione rolled her eyes, though you couldn't see it through the mask, and lifted the guard on the front of her mask.

She strutted to the other end of the room, feeling very powerful for some reason. She chose a foil with an extra small Visconti grip. Having a grip smaller than she was meant to would give her greater control over the foil. She didn't know how experienced he was, but she assumed with this room in his home, he had to be dangerously good.

Draco's choice was a French grip with dragon leather. It was his weapon of choice, though sometimes he preferred to fight with a saber. Still, Granger had taken a foil, so he couldn't rightly challenge her with a saber or an epee. That would leave him at a disadvantage.

Draco pulled his wand out, waved it over his outfit, and then tapped a box on one side of the room. One side lit up green with 0. He walked over to Hermione who warily let him wave his wand over her and tapped the box again, producing a red zero.

Hermione looked at him questioningly, and he replied, "Have you never fenced before? This is the only way to fairly keep track of our hits."

"Don't worry Malfoy, I'll do my best," she said with a small mean smile. Little did he know she _had_ fenced before, and was rather good at it.

They took their places to begin the bout. "Foil rules apply, Granger. That means any hit to the torso counts," he said, snidely.

"Bring it on," Hermione said, standing on the on-guard line. When the box declared they begin, Draco immediately scored the first point. Hermione blamed the talking box. She hadn't expected it to be scorekeeper _and_ referee. She quickly fought back and after moving across most of the floor, she scored. The bout was to be 6 minutes long, or until 5 points were scored. Hermione scored again, and it infuriated Draco.

"2-1 Malfoy, let's see what you've got!" she cried through the mesh of her mask.

"Where did you learn to fence?" he grunted back, attempting to score. He pushed her back until she'd reached the edge of the floor, and just before she could slide out of his reach he scored.

Hermione huffed annoyed, but said, "Before I came to Hogwarts I went to muggle school. Fencing is a school-sponsored sport, kind of like that dueling club we had for a minute there."

With three quick strikes she brought him to his knees, winning the bout. "I was All-Province in 1990," she commented smugly, holding a hand out to help him up.

He refused her hand, but challenged her to another game. "Best two out of three."

Hermione agreed, but they began to lose score of how many they won or lost, just enjoying the fierce competition and stress relief that was fencing. Before they knew it, it was noon and they were late for lunch.

As Hermione hung the jacket and mask back on the rack, she said, "I hope the Master of the house isn't angry at me for being late to lunch."

"That guys a git, don't worry," Draco said with a small smile.

Hermione had never seen him smile, and she had never heard him make a joke at his own expense before. She laughed and followed him as they hurried back to the dining room for lunch.


	7. Chapter 7

After lunch, Draco's carefree, teasing nature had disappeared as quickly as the table was cleared by the house elves. Hermione cold feel the change in his countenance, and could most certainly see it. He had gone from lighthearted and almost happy to cold, calculating and closed-off like before. She didn't know what she expected after the morning, but this was probably bound to happen. She was, after all, a muggleborn in the land of the purebloods.

Hermione took his silence as her cue to leave, and went back up to her room. All the nightmares she'd been having lately had slightly put her off the room, but as it was her only sanctuary in the dark Manor, she pushed her trepidation aside. Besides, she needed to figure out what was so alluring about that journal, as well as going over the file folder again for clues. If the file had something to do with Lucius' abilities as a Death Eater, it may help them in finding others, though she thought this was a stretch to say the least.

Just for good measure, she locked the door behind her as she stepped into the tower room. She sat at the vanity, as she had the night before, but this time she pulled out the black journal. Running her hands over the cover, she tried to figure out what was so alluring about it. Was it simply recognition? No, she was sure she hadn't seen this specific book before. It didn't look like Tom Riddle's journal from 2nd year, and all her old journals had always been brown leather.

She opened it once more, and decided to do some tests. Tapping her wand against the paper, she said, "_Aparecium_". Nothing appeared on the first page, and she flipped through to see no invisible ink had been triggered by the charm.

Attempting another charm, she cast "_Verba revelio_," but still not words were revealed. She tried a few more various charms that reveal things, or make things visible, but none of them worked.

"Augh! _Confringo!_" She cast the last spell out of anger, and it was supposed to rip the book apart, but it mysteriously was imperceptible to the charm. She began to think that there was some kind of magical protection on the book, so she considered ways to get around the spell.

"_Finite incantatem!_" Of course it wouldn't be that easy. She thought about it a little longer, and tried to open her mind to out of the box ideas. Normally in these times, Hermione would go to the library and read something on a different subject so she could have a Eureka moment, but this time Hermione just walked over to the wardrobe. Running her hands over the dresses and clothing, she calmed her mind and focused only on the feel of expensive cloth on her fingers. It made her think of Draco. Since when had she started calling him Draco in her mind? She was trying to get the nauseous feeling out of her stomach when she had her eureka moment.

She went back to the desk, praying to what forces there be that this would work, if only for the sake of her own curiosity. She had decided to try the duplication spell. It created an exact copy that would last a few hours, but it wouldn't copy the magical properties. She remembered that Regulus Black had made a copy of the horcrux locket to replace it, and the duplicate hadn't retained any of the horcrux's protections, and more importantly, didn't contain a piece of voldemort's soul.

She held her wand over the journal carefully, focusing all her available power on the spell. "_Geminio_" she cast, not wanting to look to see if it had worked. What appeared before her was a similar journal, but this one had many more pages than the thin original journal held. She realized it must have had an undetectable extension charm on the pages. This was good news, because if that charm hadn't held, maybe the protection was gone. Also, if it was written with conventional ink by hand, she would be able to see everything written inside.

Hermione opened the duplicated journal with some trepidation, and was happy to see that there was finally writing to be read. Flipping through, she saw that the first third was written in a small, cursive hand, and then in the middle it became large and childish. The last third of the book was written in a long sloping hand that was actually quite beautiful.

She decided to start at the beginning, and saw that the first page had a name. Aurora Laurel Malfoy was written before the first entry began. She assumed Aurora Malfoy had been the first person to write in the journal. She thought back and seemed to remember the name from the hall of portraits, but couldn't remember what generation she was in.

Hermione spent the time until dinner reading her accounts. The journal started off very angry. Aurora discussed her hideous husband and how he'd locked her in the tower for days. She had her house elf sneak her the journal on the second day to give her something to do. It was all pretty malicious and didn't make much sense. Mostly she just complained about her husband's abuses. Then Hermione found something interesting. She had talked about being pregnant, and was making up baby names. Apparently that was what the fight with her husband had been about; he hadn't wanted children due to some family curse.

Hermione tried to think if she had heard of such a curse before, but she couldn't think of it. Lucius had mentioned a curse, but she thought it was just an allegory for his medical condition, so she discarded the thought. Moving forward, some time seemed to pass between entries. From the writing, it seemed that Aurora had had her baby and named him Lucius Malfoy. _Oh, so Aurora is Draco's grandmother. That makes sense. That would make her husband…_ Hermione wracked her brains. She remembered Draco boasting about his grandfather to professor Slughorn once… _What was his name? Abraxas. That sounded right. Aurora and Abraxas Malfoy._ That meant the journal had begun not too long ago, but well before her lifetime.

She went on to read as Aurora described nightmares she had started experiencing. They became more vivid as the entries went on, and aurora made accusations and theories about what was causing them. The most plausible of her theories was that Abraxas had charmed the room to punish her when she slept. She purported in her journaling that it was because he had caught her sleeping with another mad, one of lesser blood status. _Ugh, these Malfoys and their blood status… I'm surprised he didn't just kill her._ Apparently she had been important enough for him to keep alive, but Hermione could tell from the entries that the rest of her life was not very pleasant. The writing became erratic and haunted, almost as if she was slipping into madness. Hermione read a few pages amore and was convinced; Aurora Malfoy had been driven mad by the very room she now slept in.

She thought back and tried to recall whether she'd had any significant nightmares lately, but other than the first night (well, she had actually slept over 24 hours, so could she call it a night?), she didn't recall any. Maybe the charm had been lifted.

Hermione looked the clock and saw that it was after 4 o'clock already. She had best get ready if she was to make it to dinner looking as Malfoy required. She didn't know why he required she dress for dinner; it was a little chauvinistic in her opinion. At least he dressed up as well. She would feel quite foolish otherwise.

Hermione went through the wardrobe to find a dress, and soon Arietta came to help her get ready. She really appreciated the elf's help. There was something good about her that Hermione sensed. She needed someone on her side, and although she knew arietta was bound to Malfoy, at least she could pretend Arietta was a companion.

Once she was dressed in a floor length emerald gown with a sequined bodice, and arietta had sufficiently tamed her hair into a French twist, Hermione went downstairs. This would be the first dinner since Malfoy knew her identity, so she had no high hopes for a nice evening.


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner that night in the Manor was unlike any other she'd experienced as of yet. Draco's mood seemed as temperamental as the wind. At lunch he'd been closed off and cold, and that morning he'd almost been… fun. At dinner however, she saw a new side to his personality. This Draco was nostalgic and almost kind.

"We sure had a lot of crazy experiences at Hogwarts, didn't we?" he began, as they ate veal parmesan.

"What?" Hermione said, at a loss for what he wanted her to say.

"Every year seemed like a new kind of crazy, don't you think?" He said, prompting her to answer, his eyes flashing.

So this was his game? She could play along. "I think that's just part of being magical, as a pureblood, wasn't your whole life a bucket of crazy?" she asked.

Draco chuckled and his threatening look waned. "It didn't used to be like that. Between the two wars, there was actually peace. Not that I knew much of it, living here." He waved his hand at the room around him.

"Yeah, well war does things to people. Good witches and wizards die, and evil ones show their true colours, you included." Hermione said, with a scowl.

"You think I wanted that?" Draco whispered, his voice sending chills of fear down Hermione's back. "I never wanted any of this. You're lucky," he spat. "You were always good. You were never forced into anything you didn't want to do, forced to become something you knew in your heart was wrong."

"You think I had a choice? Maybe I had a choice the day I became Harry's friend, but since that point, everyone relied on us, everyone. I was forced to be brave, to sacrifice. I was forced to grow up way too fast, forced to make decisions no child should ever have to make, forced to live on the run to protect everyone I loved." Hermione looked away, trying to keep the past from clouding her judgment.

"Maybe we aren't so different. You were forced to grow up and become a defender of good, I on the other hand was forced to follow in my family's footsteps and oppose you."

"Don't try to reconcile with me. No one forced you to be a bully when we were kids, and no one is certainly forcing you to be involved with them now." She said, raising her voice and pushing herself from her chair, hands on the table. "Death Eater!"

Draco was on her in a flash, faster than she imagined possible and closer then she was comfortable with. Draco shoved her back into her chair and spinning it to face him. He put his hands on either arm of the dining chair and brought his face close to hers.

"Don't you ever call me that again, mudblood," he said in his cold dark whisper. "I have no associations with those monsters and you would do well to remember that."

His forehead was so close to hers, and she could see the pain in his eyes. There was something real there, behind the glittering mask he put up for all to see.

"Then why do you invite them into your home, host parties for them, treat them like old friends on the street?" she whispered back, summoning her Gryffindor courage.

"I don't have to answer to you, you are not my father," he said, a little of his anger flickering away. She was so close, he could smell his mother's perfume on her neck. It was almost intoxicating in a sick twisted way that made his stomach turn and flutter.

"If you're not lying, I could help you. You don't have to live in fear."

"Well you're pegged it right there, haven't you bookworm. If I don't let those people in my home, if I don't put on a good face for them to trust, they would kill me in my sleep, string me up as a traitor at one of their meetings and eviscerate me. You have not known terror until you've seen a person murdered before your eyes, the eyes of their captor filled with only hate and mirth." He sounded utterly pissed, but Hermione could tell what it really was: fear. In Draco's mind he was replaying the scene that haunted him night after night; the killing of the muggle studies professor over this very table. It had scarred him for life, yet he had no power to destroy the table or take himself from the Manor. He was as much trapped her as Hermione was at the moment.

"So that's what's made you so old; I knew I'd find you out," she replied coolly, her heart beating faster than when she'd faced down all those Death Eaters in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, faster than in the Department of Mysteries where she'd almost died.

"Aren't you a quick study," he murmured, with something akin to appreciation in his eyes.

Hermione held her breath, trying to calm her body, but it was no use. A moment later, his lips crushed against hers, filling her bloodstream with fire. She pushed back, relishing in the taste of his lips. She was no virgin, but she had never felt anything quite like this before.

Draco almost stopped kissing her in surprise; he hadn't expected to be so suddenly attracted to her and had expected even less that he'd kiss her. The least probable thing in his mind was that she would return the kiss. He wound a hand into her hair, pulling her head back as he deepened the kiss.

Draco's tongue slid into her mouth and she was lost to carnal pleasure. Everything was fire and ice inside her mind, no thoughts permeating it. She realized her hands were in his hair, then scratching across his neck, feeling his smooth ivory flesh against her fingernails.

His mouth slipped to her neck, kissing and biting, his breath raspy and almost a growl against her collarbone. Hermione took the moment to open her eyes as her head was pulled back, and she saw the rich ceiling above her. The sight snapped her back to reality, and she gasped. This was wrong. She pushed Draco away and fled to her room.

In his shock at her pushing him away, Draco fell back against the wall. He placed his hands against the cool wainscoting, trying to bring himself back to the present. He finally calmed his breath, and slowed his heartbeat. Once he was calm, he snapped his fingers and Arietta appeared before him with a curtsy and a politely bowed head.

"Arietta, I want you to tell me everything you've seen Miss Granger do sine she arrived here. In the study, now."

xxx

IN the tower room, Hermione fell back against the door and locked it. What the hell was she doing? _Kissing the enemy,_ her subconscious replied, _and it felt good. _ No, Hermione knew it was wrong. She shouldn't be getting close to a suspect like this. It wasn't appropriate and went against all her training. Not to mention, Now Draco could hold it against her if she ever went to testify against him. _Although, if he's telling the truth, there may be nothing to testify about._ Hermione shed her formal clothing and slipped into the blue nightgown she'd been wearing to sleep. She grabbed the duplicated journal and curled up on the large bed. She read until she fell asleep, but the last thing she thought about was the madness which had overcome Aurora Malfoy.


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione dreamed that night of home. She dreamed of the house she'd grown up in, even though she hadn't set foot inside it since before the war. Her last memory of the place was erasing her parents' every memory of her and leaving to chase Horcruxes with Harry.

In her dream state, she walked in the front door, just the same as she had every time she came back from school for holiday. She could smell that her mother was heating potpourri on the stove, something she only did around the holidays. It smelled like apples and spicy cinnamon and brought back so many memories of happy times. She moved farther into the house, through the front hall and into the great room. Her father was sitting in his favorite armchair with a book and a pipe. The sweet tobacco smoke floated across the room to her, and she remembered sitting around the fire with her parents while they told her stories of their parents, whom she'd never gotten to meet.

Hermione was so happy to see her father that all her thoughts and cares melted away and she felt like a little girl again. She dashed across the room and hopped onto the couch on her knees. Leaning over she said to him, "What are you reading, Daddy?"

He looked up from his book, startled. Coughing a bit from the large amount of smoke he'd inhaled out of shock he dropped his book and said, "Who are you?" His eyes were not demanding, but they were fearful. Hermione had no idea what caused the fear in his eyes, but her stomach dropped like a stone. She crawled off the couch, speechless and ran into the kitchen.

Her mother was carving a small, oven baked turkey. Hermione smiled as she remembered how her father always fought with her, wanting to carve the turkey because he was the man of the house. Mama never let him because he always butchered it in the end. She had started carving it before the dinner table was even set to keep it nice and neat.

"Mama?" she asked nervously.

Hermione's mother looked up from the turkey, and clutching the knife in her hand, choked out, "What are you doing in my house?"

"What? Mama, it's me, Hermione, your daughter!" Hermione pleaded, trying to make her realize who she was.

"I don't have a daughter, but I know who you are, they had you on the television! You're wanted for murder!" Her mother was pointing the large kitchen knife at her now, hands shaking in fear.

Hermione thought back, hadn't the Death Eaters been putting their faces on muggle television back during the war, to try to pull them out of hiding? It couldn't be, though. The war was over.

Hermione moved around the counter, trying to reason with her mother. "No, no I've never killed anyone! I don't want to hurt anybody; I just want you to remember me!"

Jane Granger shook her head, and said, "Get out!" She waved the knife in Hermione's direction, and Hermione was about to run when the front door slammed open. A bunch of med stormed in wearing what looked like military tactical uniforms. Hermione backed up against the wall, and watched as they gunned down her mother, shocked tears running down her face. In the other room, she heard gunfire, and she knew they had gotten her father as well.

Hermione wailed in pain and sorrow, but the men in uniforms looked past her. They stormed back out of the house as quickly as they'd come, and she ran after them, screaming the whole while.

"YOU KILLED MY PARENTS!" she wailed. "YOU MURDERED THEM!" Nothing she screamed got their attention in any way, and when she turned, she saw the house catch fire. In a matter of moments, it was reduced to rubble, faster than any explosion or fire she'd ever seen or heard of. She felt o her knees and wept, until there were no more tears to cry. She fell back onto the grass, exhausted.

But as she lay there, she realized it wasn't grass that was under her head. She ran her fingers over it, and realized she was in bed. Her eyes were sore from crying, but she pushed them open, to find herself in the same bedroom she'd woken up in all week. There was a cool compress on her forehead, and arietta was standing over her. _Wait, standing over me?_

Hermione turned her head and saw that arietta was standing on a stool, her bandaged hands pressing the compress on her head.

"What's-what's going on?" she asked hoarsely.

"Miss has been sleepings for long time. Miss has fever. Arietta be helping Miss." The elf said meekly.

"Arietta, what happened to your hands, and why are you talking that way?"

"Arietta had to punish herself. Arietta has to talk like other elves, so master don't know she is smart, she whispered.

"You don't have to put on a show for me, Arietta. I know you're very old and very wise," Hermione said kindly. "What day is it?" Hermione squinted, trying to stop the pounding in her head.

"Friday, Miss." Arietta said, taking the compress off and dipping it in a bowl of cool water. She replaced on Hermione's head a moment later. Meanwhile, Hermione's mind was racing. How had she gone to sleep on Wednesday night and not woken up until Friday? It didn't feel like she'd had that nightmare for the length that she supposedly slept, but it had been vivid, so there was really no telling.

"What time is it?" Hermione asked as her stomach growled fiercely.

"Almost noon, Miss," Arietta responded.

Hermione jolted up to a sitting position. "No wonder my stomach is growling, I haven't eaten since dinner on Wednesday." She rolled her neck left to right, trying to work out the aches there. "May I have lunch in my room?" she asked politely of the elf.

Arietta stepped down from her stool and paced nervously. "Master won't like it. Master will be very upset if you aren't at lunch."

"Does he know I'm awake?" Hermione asked, sincerely doubting Malfoy cared if she were awake or not.

"No, Miss, he is out for the morning, but he should be home soon," Arietta replied. _More outings? If he's not working with the Death eater's, what is he up to?_

"Fine then, don't tell him that I'm awake; just sneak me some food up here. A sandwich is enough, but I need some water." Arietta nodded warily and went to exit the room. "And I need a potion for my fever. I'm sure Master Malfoy keeps them somewhere for emergencies?" The elf nodded again, then snapped her fingers and disappeared.

Hermione slumped back against the pillows. She hoped she wouldn't get arietta in trouble, but at the same time, she wanted to stir up trouble with Malfoy for some reason. _Maybe because the last time you stood up to him he snogged you senseless. _ Hermione pushed away the thought and picked up the journal where it had fallen to her side while she slept.

Hermione had finished the first portion of the journal, and all she had gained from it was that Aurora's husband had locked her up there, first for being pregnant with her son, then years later for carrying on with a muggleborn. Oddly, it seemed from Aurora's perspective that Abraxas's problem wasn't with the infidelity itself, but with who she had been unfaithful with. These purebloods were curious creatures.

Hermione turned the page on Aurora's final, fright filled page, and came to the part in the childish hand.

_Daddy is really mad. He didn't hit me so much this time, but he locked me in the tower. _

_I'm scared. _

_Mommy always gets so scared when she has to come up here. _

The writing was choppy and childish, full of small thoughts and phrases, most of them about fear. She gathered from the timing and the chronology of the book that these could only be written by Lucius or Draco. She flipped forward a bit, and found a page where a name had been scrawled. _Draco Malfoy _was written about ten times, in different handwriting. Hermione guessed that this part was written by Draco. That made sense, because if Aurora spent most of her remaining life in the tower, there wouldn't have been time for Lucius to be put in it before he was Hogwarts age.

Draco's writing was quite juvenile, so Hermione guessed he had been locked in here before reaching Hogwarts age. He referenced his father beating him in most entries, but it seemed that this was Lucius's punishment of choice for the boy. Maybe he knew that leaving marks on Draco would draw attention, or maybe this was just what his father taught him to do with errant family members.

Hermione flipped a few pages on, and noticed a change in writing. It was obvious some time had passed between the last entry and this one.

_Father sent me up here again. I thought once I went to Hogwarts I wouldn't have to deal with his punishments. I never sleep well here. The nightmares don't let me sleep much. All this because I let a mudblood beat me at all my classes. Doesn't he understand, if she beat me in ALL of them it must just be because she's smarter. But no, he swears it's because I didn't work hard enough. He says that if I didn't work hard this year, then next year I won't be able to handle class and Quidditch. I don't even know if I'll make the team, but if stupid Hairy Potty can make the team and keep up his class work, so can I. That kid just riles me up. We could be so powerful as friends, but he insists on hanging around with the wrong sort. Sometimes I wish I had a choice in my friends, but friendship doesn't mean shit in the end. It won't matter much after Hogwarts. My father says he has big plans for me anyway._

Hermione could just imagine first year Draco writing this entry. He always was a little too obsessed with Harry, even at that age. It made her a little happy that Draco had admitted that she was smarter than him.

Arietta appeared with a silver tray in hand. On it was a pitcher of water, a crystal goblet and a plate of sandwiches. There was also a steaming vial of blue liquid that she recognized to be a fever-reducer.

"Thank you so much, Arietta," Hermione said, "But this is too much!"

Arietta shook her head and smiled. She bowed humbly and asked, "Is there anything else Miss requires?"

"I forbid you form punishing yourself for disobeying Master's wishes this time. If he asks, I forced you to do it, okay?"

Arietta smiled and nodded, then disappeared.

Hermione heard the clock strike noon, and thought idly that if Draco had arrived home, then he'd be beginning his lunch right then.

Hermione took a bite of the sandwich, which had turkey, cheddar cheese, and lettuce so fresh she thought it had been picked that morning. The bread was obviously homemade, and was quite delicious.

After she had eaten a bit of the sandwich, she drank some water. Once she felt it was safe to take the potion, she did so, cringing as it burned her throat on the way down. She hoped that not taking it on an empty stomach would help her avoid the acid reflux normally associated with that particular potion.

She looked back to the journal as she ate the sandwich, moving forward in time with the young Draco.

_Where does he get off? Every time I do something he thinks will disgrace him, he locks me up in this stupid tower. And this stupid journal just keeps erasing itself every time I leave, so I don't even have anything to read. I swear, next holiday I'm staying at Hogwarts. Even if Dumblydork's dumber than a bag of bricks, he's better company than these stupid stone walls. He won't even let the elves bring me food in here. What an asshole he is. This time he's justifying locking me up like a leper because I didn't win the house cup in Quidditch. Who cares? It's just the bloody house cup, it's not like it's real Quidditch in a league somewhere. Besides, I caught the snitch just as many times as stupid Potter. He's also mad about my grades again, but I got all O's and one E. I bet no one besides Granger did better. But who could beat a brownnoser at brownnosing?_

Hermione sniffed slightly reading that, but then laughed, because she was getting offended over something that was written 9 years ago. She flipped forward and read more of the same, complaining about school and about his father. She found something interesting a few pages later.

_For the first time ever, Father has a reason to put me in here that isn't completely bullshit. He sent me up here because I'm refusing to take the Dark Mark. I don't want to be indebted to some half-dead asshole that basically has a boy crush on some 16 year old boy-who-wouldn't-die. I mean, seriously? Sure, I was raised to think those of lesser blood are inferior to me. I accept that. But does that mean they should all die or be punished? Who is he to judge? Riddle isn't a pureblooded name as far as I know…_

_I must be stupid for thinking I have a choice in the matter. I haven't had a choice in anything my whole life. These are your friends, go to Hogwarts, not Durmstrang, join the Quidditch team (although I would have chosen that either way), be a fucking death eater. They act like I'm a puppet they can just pull strings of and make dance. I understand I probably won't ever get to be my own man, but shouldn't I get the choice to decide whether I become some homicidal maniac in a cult?_

The next page looked like it was written the next day.

_The nightmares are back. I hate this fucking room. This time they were worse than ever. He came to me in my dream. He told me if I didn't join his army, that my family would be slaughtered. Somehow I don't think it was a dream. So much for free will. I guess it's time to go meet my fate._

Hermione couldn't believe that Draco had been telling the truth. He really had been forced into being a Death Eater, and when he'd initially refused, he'd been punished, and Voldemort had invaded his dreams to convince him. What a messed up childhood he'd had. It almost made her pity him.

Hermione spent the afternoon in her room, rereading Draco's entries. The part about becoming a Death Eater had been the last of Draco's. She guessed that when he'd become a Death Eater, Draco's father finally considered him a man. That was a twisted coming of age story if she'd ever heard one.

Soon it was 4 o'clock, the time Arietta normally showed up to dress her for dinner. Hermione figured she should at least make an appearance at dinner. She dismally thought about the fact that she'd been there almost a whole week. She wondered if the Order was worried about her, but they probably assumed she was still undercover. Draco was known to entertain women for weeks at a time, so her being absent probably didn't raise any alarms as of yet. She wished there was a fireplace in the room so she could make contact. She didn't want to trust a Malfoy owl to take anything for her. It would be far too easy for a good wizard to track the bird back to their meeting place.

Of course, after this week ended, Hermione wouldn't know where they were meeting next. It was easier to avoid detection or attack if they never met in the same place for more than a week. Arietta entered, and Hermione pulled herself off the bed. Her legs were asleep, and she had to walk to get rid of the tingling sensation.

She went to the wardrobe and tried to find a dress to wear for dinner. She wasn't feeling very festive, so she went with a brown floor length gown. It had no sleeves, but the part that covered from her neck over her clavicles down to her breasts was a large print brown lace. The rest of it was a flowing material that reminded her of silk, but was not so thin.

For her feet, she chose brown slip on flats. If she had to sit in uncomfortable awkward silence, at least her shoes wouldn't be uncomfortable. She decided to go without the dagger tonight, if only because she didn't want to wear the stifling hot boots. A little part of her felt that she could trust him, and if not, then magic would be enough. She just preferred having a normal weapon on her, in case she lost her wand. She could do some wandless magic, but she hadn't really explored it, since it used a lot of energy.

Arietta fixed her hair in silence, but at Hermione's request, she just tamed it and left it free. She had made it curl softly around Hermione's shoulders, which was comfortable and familiar.

Thanking the elf, Hermione went downstairs with Draco's words from the journal in her mind. _I guess it's time to go meet my fate._

**A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews! You guys really keep me inspired and excited to continue! Right now this is my only work in progress, and I must say I'm better at multitasking, so the ideas are a little slow, but I'm wanting to take my time with this story, so I hope you enjoy the finished product!**


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione poked at her smoked cod, not convinced that it could be considered an entrée. Sighing slightly she moved to the roasted fingerling potatoes. Even these were just beyond her. Who needed potatoes every color of the rainbow? Potatoes are potatoes after all! Color and shape don't change much, as long as you're a good enough cook.

Draco cleared his throat, and Hermione looked up at him, her expression blank. She raised her eyebrow as if to ask what he wanted.

"Do you have a problem with my food, Granger?" he asked.

"No more than the problem I have with this house or the disdainful way you say my name," she said moving her eyes back to her plate. The green beans were wrapped into little bundles with a strip of bacon. Seriously? They couldn't just put the green beans on the plate? Maybe cook it in the bacon grease if you really needed the flavor. She rolled her eyes at the bundle of freakish clone green beans being held together by a slice of pig.

"And yet you still continue to roll your eyes at your plate. I don't know which you've done more tonight: roll your eyes, or sigh as if someone just required so very much from you," Draco responded, rolling his eyes as well.

"I never said I didn't have a problem with it, I just said it was no more of a problem than the other various problems I have at the moment, any of which could cause eye rolling and sighing, for your information." She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. For some reason the whole conversation was ridiculously funny. The fever must have been lingering, because she could barely contain herself.

Struggling to keep from losing it, Hermione focused on her plate, only to look down and see the house elves had replaced it with an ice cream sundae. It was pretty simple, just vanilla ice cream with hot fudge, whipped cream and a cherry. Hermione took a bite, and felt an almost orgasmic glow in her chest. This was the most delicious ice cream sundae she'd ever had. Considering it came from Malfoy Manor, the cow probably got slaughtered to make it this good.

Draco eyed Granger carefully. One moment, she was trying to act upset, then she couldn't stop laughing. Now she looked like she was losing her mind over the ice cream sundae, which to his knowledge, tasted no better than any other ice cream sundae he'd had.

"So, you have no problem with the ice cream then?" Draco said with a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips.

"No, it's quite wonderful, really," Hermione replied nodding emphatically.

Draco was almost confused by her bliss now. "Have you never had ice cream made with magic before?" he asked seriously.

"It was just… conjured into being?" she asked, disappointed. Conjuring food was so much less impressive than making it yourself. In her apartment, Hermione had a full muggle kitchen, but the ice cream she made with her kitchen aid mixer never came out this good.

"No, it was literally made with magic," Draco said, spacing out the words like she were brain-damaged or something. "They take the cream and they whip it, but they whip it with magic, flavor it with magic, etcetera. Eventually you have the smoothest, creamiest, most delicious ice cream you've ever tasted. But once you've had it, it's pretty much the same every time." He shrugged on the end of his explanation, plunging his spoon back into the dish arbitrarily.

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Is there anything you don't take for granted, Malfoy?" she asked, shocked.

Draco laughed outright, and said, "You don't know anything about me, and yet you try to judge me every single day without fail. I really never knew you were like that. It's really pretty ignorant."

Hermione fumed. How dare he call her ignorant? But she thought about his words. He was right. She had been judging him since she showed up at the party and a long time before that too. "You are extremely infuriating, Malfoy, but you have a point. I apologize for being judgmental."

"Apology accepted," Draco said softly. He hadn't expected her to apologize; he was just trying to incense her. Now he didn't really know what to say, and that was not a feeling Draco Malfoy was familiar with.

"Why don't we start over? I know I can't change the past, and that we've always been at opposite ends of most every issue. Still, I guess if I'm stuck in here for two more weeks, I might as well be civil to you. The only way I can imagine to do that is to get to know you." Hermione stood and walked to his end of the table. She stuck out her hand in greeting. "Hello, my name is Hermione Granger, and you are?"

"Draco Malfoy," he replied, shaking her hand. He didn't even fell the need to yank his hand away from her, which was a first. He held her hand for a moment longer, until he realized it was awkward. He slipped his hand out of hers and placed it awkwardly in his lap. "You may call me Draco."

"Well, Draco, I've heard the master of this house likes to read after dinner. Would you like to join me?" Hermione asked, her nerves making her stomach flutter. At least, she thought it was nerves.

"I'll join you," he said kindly, standing. The table disappeared and their usual reading area appeared near the fire. "But I don't think we should read."

Hermione stopped walking toward the fire and turned her head toward him. "What should we do instead?" she asked, trying to sound indifferent.

"Well, whenever I meet an attractive young lady and have the good fortune of a magic mansion to keep her stuck in my presence, I like to talk. I want to get to know you. As long as we're starting over?" Draco seemed to lose his nerve halfway through talking. His last sentence came out as more of a question than a statement.

Hermione was happy to see that he was just as nervous as she was, so she took her usual seat, and waited for Draco to be seated as well. "So, when you have hypothetically imprisoned women in your Manor, how do you break the ice?"

"I think we already broke the ice a couple nights ago," he replied, wiggling an eyebrow at Hermione.

Despite herself, Hermione burst into a peal of giggles. It actually calmed her stomach a bit to laugh.

Draco shook his head with a smile and said, "You have such a lovely laugh. Why didn't I ever notice it before?"

Hermione gave him a small yet confused smile and replied, "I doubt I ever had much to laugh about in front of you, Ma- Draco. Professor Snape's potions class wasn't a hotbed of mirth."

"Oh Lord, can you imagine him giggling?" Draco shook his head again, and continued, "He was my Godfather. He really took good care of me, even when my Father was being a – well, himself."

"I always secretly liked Severus, but he still scared the dung out of me. I hope wherever he is, he's happy." Hermione said soberly.

"Starting the heaven/hell debate already, are we?" Draco said raising his eyebrows.

Hermione laughed and said, "No, I just have never been sure what there is after death, if anything. I was raised as a Christian, but after some of the things I've seen, I'm not sure. Between Sirius failing through a veil and being lost to the world, to time traveling to save an animal's life to a sadistic madman who keeps pieces of his soul in little trinkets all over the place, I'm just at a loss for understanding. I always thought that being a witch might get me more answers, but I'm more confused than ever," she admitted.

"Well," Draco said sagely, "I don't know about most of the things you just mentioned, but I do know that all that matters is faith. If you believe there's a higher power or some sort of life after death, then live that way. Maybe you'll end up being right. And if you're wrong and there's nothing after death, well, then you won't realize it, because you'll be dead." He gave her a half smile.

Hermione thought about it for a moment, and then said, "What do you think about ghosts?"

"What about them?" he asked.

"Well, wouldn't they be proof that there has to be some kind of life after death?" Hermione posited.

"Actually, I think the reason we have ghosts in the wizarding world is more a consequence of our magic. Like, look at all the Hogwarts ghosts. They all died violent deaths, and most of them had unfinished business. Nearly Headless Nick never got any respect, and then was beheaded. Myrtle never got… toilet paper? I don't know. I just think that a wizard's magic leaves an imprint on the world when they die. The more violent or unrequited, the stronger the imprint will be."

Hermione thought carefully, before going on. "Has a witch or wizard ever imprinting in the Manor?" she asked delicately.

Draco nodded solemnly. "Yes. My mother."


	11. Chapter 11

"Your mother?" Hermione asked. "Narcissa is a ghost?"

"The first time she showed up, I lost it. She isn't a very strong ghost, at least not yet," he explained. "She's where I got the idea about imprinting from. I'm not surprised you haven't seen her. She's very picky about where she haunts."

"That sounds like her. I didn't know your mother well, but she obviously cared a lot about you, and she was clearly a woman of distinctive taste," Hermione said.

"She would have liked to hear that. Actually," he turned and looked behind him. "Just kidding, she doesn't like it in here. I don't either."

"Why would you eat every meal here then?' Hermione asked incredulously.

"Because it's how things are done," he tried to explain. "I've always eaten all three meals in here."

"Have you ever thought about branching out once in a while?" Hermione suggested with a small smile.

"I don't know," he said a little shyly. "It would be weird."

"Maybe one day I'll surprise you," Hermione said with a secretive grin.

"Can…" Draco started, and then cleared his throat. "Can I show you something?" He stood and offered Hermione a hand up out of the chair.

Hermione nodded and took his hand, and he pulled her towards the entrance to the dining room. He pulled her down the hall and she jogged lightly to keep up with his large stride. After a few twists and turns, he pushed open a glass door into a greenhouse of sorts. It was October, so the weather had been starting to chill, but in the greenhouse it was warm. She tried to think of what this room in a Manor would be called.

"This is the conservatory," Draco said, pulling her farther in through the exotic plants and flowers. There were even trees there! She pulled a palm branch and a group of bright orange butterflies scattered. Hermione giggled, but kept up with Draco, following just behind him.

"The Conservatory is nice," he said as they exited into the cool evening air. "But this is what I really wanted to show you." He pulled her into the maze, and Hermione was dizzied by the twists and turns he took her on, but he seemed confident that he knew the way in. Finally he stopped in the very center of the maze, where there was a stone bench with black iron detailing.

"It's so strange, seeing this sea of green in every direction," Hermione commented looking from side to side at the maze around her.

"And yet the sky above doesn't give you pause?" he asked, coyly. Hermione followed his gaze and saw the most beautiful starscape overhead. It was almost as detailed as what she'd seen over Hogwarts at night. Here there were just about as few lights as there were at Hogwarts. Nothing could detract from the shining of the stars.

"Sit," he whispered. Hermione obeyed and he sat next to her. His arm was casually resting on the back of the bench. It didn't touch Hermione, but she was a bit chilled in her sleeveless dress, and almost wished he would. "Just keep your eyes on the sky until I tell you to look down," he whispered in a reassuring voice.

Hermione had no problem obeying that order. The sky was so vast and beautiful above her. She hadn't had the time to see it lately, especially not with this detail. She hadn't had a vacation in over 4 years. Working with the Order had really taken a toll on her life, and now, sitting in a garden maze with Draco Malfoy of all people, she felt like she could finally relax.

"Ok," Malfoy whispered. "Now look, but be very still."

Hermione lowered her head slowly and came eye to eye with a winged creature holding a teeny tiny lantern. She held her breath, trying not to screech, but as her eyes adjusted, she saw a bunch of the creatures floating around, playing on the maze walls, dancing amongst the grass.

"Are they fairies?" Hermione asked in a hushed tone, not wanting to spook the one near her face.

"Yes, they're actually quite famous," Draco said rather proudly. "They're the Cottingley Fairies. Some nasty little girls took photographs of them and Arthur Conan Doyle used one of the photos, so all the tourists ruined the fairies' natural habitat. They traveled around for years, never having a home, until one of them made friends with my Mother. She had this maze built so their fairy circle could be safe, and in return, the fairies grow the garden on the other side of the maze. They use their magic to make it the most beautiful garden in Britain, because they knew my mother had a brown thumb."

Hermione smiled at the fairy in front of her nose, and held out her hand. The fairy eyed her warily, then sat cross-legged on Hermione's outstretched palm, at eye level. She set down her lantern, and Hermione could feel the tiny heat waves radiating from it, but it did not burn her. The fairy then grabbed a lock of Hermione's hair and started braiding it.

Hermione giggled and the sound made Draco smile. He hadn't been out to see the fairies at night since his Mother had died. They just didn't trust men as well as women. He was glad he could introduce them to a new woman, and vice versa. Hermione seemed happy as a clam, watching the fairy braid her hair, moving her palm down like an elevator every time the tiny hands needed more hair.

When the fairy finished braiding, she tied the end of Hermione's hair into a knot and grabbed her lantern. She blew Hermione a kiss, which seemed a very human gesture, and flew away, blending in to the cacophony of lights around them.

Hermione leaned into Draco, feeling too happy to worry about touching inappropriately or being too forward. "Thank you for showing me the fairies," Hermione said softly.

Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione the rest of the way, pressing his palm against the cool skin of her shoulder. "You're welcome. They like women better than men, anyway."

"Some muggles believe in them, you know. They believe that only those who have engaged their third eye can see fairies," Hermione said, remembering an article on Theosophy.

"Sounds like something Trelawney would say," Draco commented, resting his head on hers.

Hermione's insecurity got the best of her and as always, when confronted by an intimate situation, she started spouting off facts. "Actually, their depictions of fairies were pretty similar to what these fairies look like, but theosophists think fairies are the size of humans. That would be crazy, right? A human size fairy with big honkin' wings walking around?"

"Hermione," Draco said, putting a finger up to her lips to silence her. "Shh." He kissed her forehead, and laid it back on the crook where his shoulder met his chest.

Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled his scent slowly. It was intoxicating, and made her want to nuzzle her head into his chest and feel its warmth, but she felt that might be going too far. She still felt like she was walking on eggshells with Draco. She knew that this would not be the kind of situation she'd ever find herself in if she were back in the real world. They simply weren't destined to be in that way.

Draco looked down at the woman in his arms. Sitting like this, together, seemed almost perfect. It was the closest to feeling whole he had in a long time. He was so surprised when she didn't shudder at his touch. It was almost like she trusted him.

He felt a warm tingling feeling overcome his body. _No!_ he thought to himself sternly. _You can't get involved with her. You just need to make her trust you enough so that she can be the sacrifice. You have to break the curse._ He tried to focus on the matter at hand, but his heart was confusing his mind with thoughts of Hermione.

He moved to get up, but Hermione's weight was dead against him. He realized she must be asleep. Wow, she really did trust him. The idea was really shocking to Draco. If only tonight were the full moon, he'd be set. Too bad he had two weeks to go.

He lifted her up into his arms, and began to walk out the way he'd come in the maze. Then, thinking better of it, he whistled to the nearest fairy. She came near his mouth and he whispered to her. She giggled and flew in front of them.

The fairy exited the maze in a beeline, the walls moving away from her as she went, leaving a straight path for Draco to leave. It would have taken too long to find his way in, anyway. He wondered for a moment if Hermione would remember the fairies. He imagined they had to be much more pleasant than the nightmares she was bound to be experiencing in that room. He almost felt a pang of guilt at leaving her up there, but he pushed it out of his mind. If she was well rested and on her game, it would be harder for him to do what he needed to do.

The little bit of guilt he felt a moment ago cut at his stomach again. He decided to leave her in one of the docile guest rooms. He dropped her on the first floor, in the room next to the library. If she asked, he would tell her he couldn't carry her up to the tower, but in all honesty, he hadn't wanted to set foot in there. As he looked down at her slumbering face against the silvery white pillows, he almost wished he could keep her. But no, that wouldn't be possible.

It had to be done, no matter how much he enjoyed her company.


	12. Chapter 12

That night, Hermione dreamt of a library. It was smaller than the Hogwarts library and Hermione was sure she hadn't been there before. The bookcases were quite tall and had sliding ladders to accommodate the higher shelves. On the back wall were huge two-story windows that let in the afternoon light. Hermione was drawn to them.

When she arrived at the windows, she tried to look out, but the sun was reflecting so brightly, she couldn't make any scenery out. Slightly put off by this, she turned to the shelf behind her. Something made her want to explore one of the highest shelves, so she pulled over the nearest ladder.

Climbing carefully, she reached the second shelf from the top of the bookcase. Watching her actions as though through someone else's eyes, Hermione emptied the books from the shelf, knocked once on the bottom of the shelf and twice on the back. A trapdoor in the side of the shelf popped open, and Hermione peered into it.

In the dusty little hollow was an ancient leather book. On the cover was etched a rose, and the binding seemed feeble with age. Hermione descended the ladder and sat under the window to see what was inside the book. Settling in, she opened the cover, but the light in the window intensified until Hermione could see nothing but its glow.

Hermione woke up in a strange room. Well, it was stranger than the usual strange room she woke up in. She looked around and saw that the curtains had been drawn, but the light in here was sharper than upstairs. She looked out the window and realized the light was so bright because there was a small lake below. The light must have been reflecting off of the water.

Yawning, she stretched her arms over her head, and realized she'd had a great night's sleep. In all honesty it was probably the best sleep she had since she came to the Manor. She made a mental note to remember to ask Draco what kind of mattress this was. She thought back, and realized she even remembered her dream from the night before. If only she knew where that library was… somehow her subconscious had known about the book, and she was certainly not one to leave any book unread.

Hermione realized that she hadn't been woken up by Arietta that morning, so she checked her watch for the time. It was only 7 am. It made her happy to be closer to her normal sleep schedule, though she couldn't remember what time she'd fallen asleep-or where. With all the extra time, Hermione decided to try to find the tower room and get dressed before breakfast, since she was still wearing last night's brown dress.

She stepped out into the hall and walked to the nearest corner. Luckily, she found herself in a familiar hall, so getting back to the tower wasn't too much work. When she got there, she quickly shed her clothes, wishing that she had time to let Arietta take her under things to the laundry. Though Hermione abhorred having a house elf waiting on her hand and foot, in this situation it was nice to have someone do her laundry as she slept.

Hermione selected a dress that was somewhere in between the shifts she normally wore during the day, and the formal gowns she wore to dinner. It was a tea length dress, in a deep chestnut brown. The waist was tailored to be tight, and the top opened into a coat-like cut with a mandarin collar. Underneath the open coat top was a lace bodice. The sleeves reached her elbows with a small ruffle and a ribbon accent. The majority of the dress had tan pinstripes, and overall it made Hermione feel like a librarian. Getting into the librarian vibe, she put her hair up in a sloppy French twist and secured it with one of the many wood and bone hair sticks available from Narcissa's vanity.

Happy with her result, Hermione went down for breakfast. When she arrived, she realized she was even earlier than Draco for once. She would have to remember this for future reference. She wasn't much earlier though, because Draco came in soon after, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

He gave her a small smile, then seemed to think better of it and dropped his face back into a noncommittal emotion. Hermione squinted her eyes a little, trying to get why he wouldn't want to smile at her, but decided to drop it. She had more important questions to ask.

"Do you have a library here?" she asked, surprising him.

"Oh, um yes we do," he replied. After a moment of her staring at him, he continued, "Would you like to come see it after breakfast?" He seemed kind of bewildered that he was asking her that, especially since they almost never saw each other after breakfast, but at least he had known what she wanted.

"I would love that," Hermione said graciously.

A moment later, the breakfast bar populated itself, and they tucked in.

xxx

Once breakfast had been cleared away, and Draco had complained about eating too much, it was time to go to the library. Hermione followed Draco through the halls, careful not to fall too far behind. After a few minutes of walking, they stopped in front of a pair of large doors. Draco looked at Hermione with some hesitation, but then opened the doors wide.

Inside was a musty, dusty library that didn't look like it had seen company in quite some time.

"You don't come in here very often, do you?" she asked, peering around in the dark.

"No, not since Mother died. I prefer to keep a selection of my favorite books in the dining room, as you know." Draco said stiffly. It was obvious that something about this room made him uncomfortable. "If you'd like, you can stay. I have business to attend to."

"You and your mysterious business, Malfoy," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Can you at least tell me where the lights are?"

"Oh," Draco said before dashing behind a bookcase. A moment later, she heard him say from the other end of the room, "Here we go…" The back wall filled with light as Draco pulled down the curtains that covered the huge windows. The room looked much more pleasant to Hermione, and she realized it was definitely the library from her dream.

Draco came back around the bend, and made to leave, saying, "Enjoy yourself."

Hermione grabbed him in a quick hug before he had a chance to escape, saying, "Thank you so much!" She would have to remember to do something nice for him in return.

Hermione couldn't hold her excitement at bay any longer. She ran to the back and looked to see if she could spy the shelf she had cleared the night before. She found it, and reached for the nearest ladder so she could go up and see if the trapdoor was really real.

She started up the ladder, which creaked under her weight a little. She looked down, worried, but continued. About halfway up, she started getting a little dizzy, but tried to swallow her fear and move on. Finally she reached the top of the ladder, and the second shelf from the top. She pushed the books out of the way, and knocked on the bottom once and the back wall twice. Just like in her dream, the trapdoor opened, and Hermione reached inside.

The small leather bound book was in there, and Hermione decided to make it a dream come true by reading the book. She giggled at the idea, but started going down the ladder, balancing as best she could with the book in hand.

About halfway back down, she started hearing that creaking noise again. She took one, two, three rungs down, and then the fourth rung broke under her weight. Hermione let out a strangled yell as she fell backwards down the ladder. She landing in a heap on the floor, but luckily she didn't think she'd broken her tailbone.

As she lay there, trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her, Hermione opened her eyes and saw the ghost of Narcissa Malfoy standing over her.

She fainted.

xxx

Draco left Hermione to her bookworm devices. She figured for her, visiting the Manor library would be like taking a vacation from being captive. He knew from experience that books made excellent escape mechanisms. He went to his office and pulled out the file he had been working on recently and began writing.

_October 13_

_No symptoms so far today. I went all day yesterday without getting angry, and I haven't transformed since the night of the last party. I hate this curse. I hope that it can be broken by Hermione's blood. But at the same time, haven't we tried to break it before? Every generation tries it and fails. Maybe I should ask her for help. If anyone can figure out a cryptic old family curse it would be her._

_No. I'm getting too close to her now. I lucked out that she got caught at my party. I need to separate myself from her so that I don't get too attached._

He stopped writing, because it was getting all too personal and journal-like. These files were meant to mark his progress as the curse moved forward, so that if he failed to break it, his son would have some clues. Although, he doubted he'd even bother to have children with the curse being what it was. He had no parents to guilt him over grandchildren or the fact that he would be leaving no heir.

Draco checked the vials he stored in the cabinet drawer with his files. He had forgotten to take his injection yesterday, but he still hadn't transformed? Normally it happened at least every quarter of the moon. He decided to ask the potion master at his family's company about it before lunch.

He flooed off to the company, leaving the files on his desk where anyone could see them. Luckily, Arietta was a very smart and discerning elf, and she put them away.

xxx

Hermione blinked at the face of Narcissa Malfoy above her. Rather, she looked through her image, but still. Hermione sat up quickly and tried to think of something to say to a ghost. Luckily, she didn't have to say much because Narcissa spoke first.

"Are you alright?" the specter asked.

"Er- yes, I guess I am," Hermione said, looking herself over for bruises or cuts.

"Good. Now I take it you were about to read that book?" Narcissa asked.

"I was planning on it, yes."

"Don't. I have heard that you've unlocked the magic hiding my journal entries from the nightmare room."

"The what?"

"The tower bedroom, don't sorry about semantics."

"Oh, yes, I have been reading the entries."

"Well, Aurora and Draco's don't matter, but you need to read mine before you open that book," Narcissa said sternly.

"Why?" asked Hermione out of curiosity.

"Don't talk back to your elders!" Narcissa screeched and flew off, like a balloon that had been released without being tied shut.

Hermione frowned as she looked down at the small book. Maybe she should listen to Narcissa. It couldn't hurt to read her entries first. Hermione stood up, stretching her aching body from where she'd fallen. She quickly and quietly ran to the tower room. She hoped to avoid Draco, and luckily she didn't see a single blonde hair on her way upstairs.

Hermione dropped the book off in her room, and was about to go back to reading the journal, when she was struck with another idea. She had 2 hours until lunch. It was time to do something special for Draco.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: warning, there is slightly graphic subject matter at one point, but it does not go into any detail. I hope it doesn't put anyone off the story. If the consensus is I should remove it, I will.**

When Draco returned from his business, he smelled something delicious cooking in the kitchen. He idly wondered what the house elves were making for lunch, so he decided to go to the kitchen and find out. He followed the delicious smell to the kitchen, but when he looked through the porthole windows, he was shocked. Not only were the house elves not doing anything, Hermione Granger was cooking in his kitchen.

He pushed the swinging door open and stepped inside. Hermione had a large pot going on the stove and was slicing tomatoes on the prep counter. For a moment, he considered the fact that he had a very expensive kitchen, full of the finest appliances and always stocked with the freshest food money could buy, and yet he'd never spent any real time in there.

"What do you think you're doing?" he said. He tried to sound stern, but the corners of his lips were betraying him.

Hermione jumped, and then cursed. "Merde," she muttered, holding her finger. She rushed over to the sink, and Draco realized she must have cut herself when she jumped. She rinsed off her finger, and Draco came to meet her at the sink.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a pang of guilt.

"Merlin, you scared me, Draco," she said, pulling out her wand to heal the cut. Her hand was shaking a little; did she have a problem with blood?

"Here," Draco said, pushing her wand out of the way. "Let me," he insisted. He healed her cut in a moment with his wand, and rolled her finger from side to side to make sure it was all healed.

Hermione let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and then rinsed the remains of blood from her finger, washing her hands again with soap.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Draco confessed guiltily.

"It's fine, it's my fault." Hermione shook her head, and continued, "I wanted to surprise you by making lunch, since you've been so kind to me."

"What?" he asked nonplussed.

"You've let me stay here, and you let me explore your library, and you took me in the maze last night which was very sweet." She paused for a moment. "And I don't remember how I got to bed last night, but I assume you did that as well."

"Guilty," he said with a small smile as he remembered how sweet she'd looked sleeping in his arms. "What are you making?" he asked shyly.

"Chicken noodle soup and club sandwiches," Hermione replied, going back to cutting the tomatoes. "The soup is my mom's recipe. It always makes me feel better, and you seemed a little tense this morning."

"I've got a lot on my mind," he replied, his expression darkening as he remembered exactly what had been weighing on him.

"Well don't worry, lunch is almost done, so it'll still be on schedule," Hermione said dismissively.

"Do you want any help?" he offered, though he knew little about the culinary arts. Still, he was good enough with a knife in potions; it couldn't be that hard.

"You can start building the sandwiches," she said, waving her hand at the stack of ingredients next to the bread.

"Um…" Draco muttered, looking at the many items she had out for sandwiches. "I don't know what goes on a club sandwich," he admitted.

Hermione laughed, which involuntarily brought a smile to Draco's face. "I'll do the sandwiches, why don't you pick out a bottle of wine?"

Draco nodded, saying, "Now there's something I can do." He jogged out of the kitchen and down to the wine cellar, which was in a separate sublevel from the dungeons. He chose a fairly young Riesling, thinking that it would go nicely with the chicken soup. Going back upstairs, he selected two appropriate wine glasses and put the wine in an ice bucket next to the table.

He came back in the kitchen, and was shocked to find that the sandwiches were all assembled and the soup was in a tureen with a ladle, awaiting the bowls. Hermione was pulling two large bowls down from the cabinet.

"How did you get all that done so fast?" he wondered aloud.

"Just because I used the stove doesn't mean I'm a complete muggle in the kitchen, Malfoy. I used magic to prepare the sandwiches." She laughed again and carried the bowls out to their place settings.

Draco used a levitation charm to transport the tureen and sandwich platter into the dining room. He set them in the middle of the table and went over to the ice bucket. Thanks to the spell on the bucket, the wine was perfectly chilled. Draco uncorked the bottle, and served Hermione, then himself.

Sitting down across from Hermione in his usual seat, he held the glass aloft. "Thank you for making this lovely meal," he said congenially. "Cheers."

Hermione tipped her glass in Draco's direction, and then tasted the light colored wine. The wine was floral, but sweet with an acidic bite at the end. She loved it.

"German Riesling?" she asked, holding up her wine glass again.

"Yes, it's from the Mosel region. I got it on my last trip to Germany," he explained, helping himself to a few ladles of soup and a sandwich. Biting into the sandwich, he was in heaven. The bread was just crispy enough without being hard. The meat was good enough quality to not seen store-bought and the cheese was deliciously sharp. The best part was the German mustard she had used. It matched the wine quite nicely.

"Wow," Draco commented. "This has to be the best sandwich I've had in a long time."

Hermione considered his usual taste in food before saying, 'And when was the last time you ate a sandwich, dare I ask?"

"Um… Hogwarts?" he mumbled.

"Well at least I compare to the elves at Hogwarts. They're pretty exceptional," Hermione said.

"Yeah, they prepare food for so many kids all the time and it never sucked. I guess they deserve a hand," he said conversationally.

"Well, did you know by the end of our schooling, they were all free elves?" Hermione offered, hinting.

"And you think that had some bearing on their cooking skills?" he asked with a quirked up eyebrow. She nodded innocently, and he replied, "Nice try, Miss Granger."

The way he called her Miss Granger affected her. She felt a deep pang in her stomach, almost as if she were turned on. But why would him addressing her the way she had been by all her teachers have that affect on her? It felt… wrong and dirty in a good way. She tried to focus on her soup instead.

"Did you like the library?" Draco asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"If you're asking if I saw Narcissa, yes I did," Hermione said pointedly.

"Oh," Draco said, some of the unease leaving his voice. "And?"

"She was very polite. She didn't even laugh at me when I fell on my ass," Hermione said with a wince, remembering her fall. "And she gave me some advice on what to read."

"Wow, I would have thought she'd be a little nastier to you," Draco replied.

"Well, I guess she remembered that Harry's testimony kept her out of Azkaban after the war," Hermione shrugged and finished her soup.

Draco made a noncommittal noise and pushed his plates away. "That was good, thank you, Hermione," he said kindly. "But from now on if you plan to put my house elves out of work for the morning, let me know so I can assign them other tasks. They get restless without direction."

Hermione scoffed a little and excused herself to her room. Honestly, purebloods were all the same when it came to house elves. She rolled her eyes.

xxx

_Today I married Lucius Malfoy. He has given me this room in the tower to be my private chambers. I do enjoy the view, though I don't understand why I can't share a marital bed with my husband. I don't think he likes me very much, though we've been betrothed as long as I can remember. He buys me such pretty things though, so I suppose I shall be happy here. I found this journal in the vanity drawer. Ti must be a gift from Lucius. He is so very thoughtful. I shall write you faithfully._

_-The Newlywed Mrs. Malfoy_

_Last night, Lucius took me to his bed. He told me it was time to bear an heir. I don't know why that very moment seemed so important to him, but I allowed him to make love to me. It wasn't like I imagined, but then, I always imagined I would marry for love, not for power. Still, it is amazing that this is the first union between the Black family and the Malfoy family. We are so powerful separately that together we are certainly a force to behold. If last night's efforts produce an heir, he will certainly be a lucky boy._

_-Thoroughly (if not Well) Bedded Narcissa Malfoy_

_I've never slept very well in this room, but now I think I'm starting to remember my nightmares. Before, I never would, but ever since I made Lucius so angry the other day, they must be getting more vivid. I see a snake. It's huge… and it has the strangest eyes. I know it's just a dream, but it seems important._

_-Confused and Bewildered Cissy_

_I'm pregnant! I found out from a home spell that I am definitely pregnant! I won't know the sex until we go to see the mediwitch on Thursday. I do hope it's a boy, because I don't want to be trapped looking after a brood of little ones. Lucius suggested I move downstairs for the pregnancy so I don't chance falling down any stairs. I think he's secretly starting to like my company and just wants me closer. That would be nice. I would like to be close to my husband, after all._

_-Narcissa (and fetus)_

_I am no longer pregnant, diary. By the time we made it to the mediwitch, I had miscarried. I will never know that little life, and it just tears me up inside. Last night I couldn't bear to write the news after we found out, so I just slept on it. I dreamed of her last night. I dreamed of my baby. She was so beautiful, and I held her, and she looked at me like she didn't hate me for losing her. In my mind I named her Sarah. But as always, the dream did not end well. The giant snake showed up again, and this time he ate my Sarah. I cried all morning until I had the strength to write in you. Writing always makes me feel better. _

_-Just Cissy_

_I think Lucius is ignoring me. I keep hinting that we should try to get pregnant again, but he keeps telling me it's not yet time. I don't know what he means. I can only take it to mean that he is monitoring my ovulation and cannot bear to waste the time and effort spent having intercourse with me unless it is to produce an heir. I don't understand him at all. I don't know if I can stand being married to a man who doesn't love me. He must learn to love me. It's the only way I'll be able to stay here. Maybe when I produce him an heir, he won't worry so much._

_-Sexless Narcissa_

_The nightmares are getting worse. I suppose it must be some mental block I'm putting on myself, because every time Lucius and I fight, no matter how trivial, I have the nightmares. We did finally make love again the other night, if you could call it that. I'm supposed to be testing myself right now, but I'm writing in you instead. I guess I'll do it now. Thank heavens for this early detection charm._

_I'm pregnant again! This time I got a really strong reading from the spell, so I know it will take this time! I have to go let Lucius know!_

_-Overjoyed Mrs. Malfoy_

_I'm so sorry I abandoned you, diary. It has been so long since I've written. I have much to tell you. I moved away from the tower for my pregnancy. He turned out to be a boy, who I named Draco, keeping with my side of the family's tradition. Lucius got to pick the middle name, and went with his father's name, Abraxas. I think it will fit him. He is such a little gentleman already. He is with his nursemaid now, and I've returned to my little tower. I think Lucius was happy to see me come up here. He knows I'll probably need some space and time. Post-partum depression runs rampant in my family. I have however convinced him to tell me the family secret. He has sworn to me up and down that it is too terrible to tell me, but I've worn him down. I'm going to dinner with him in London tonight, and then, I'll make him tell me._

_-Mommy Cissy_

_I should be careful what I wish for. Diary, this is really hard to write. There is a curse on the house of Malfoy. I chose the absolute WRONG family to marry in to. Why didn't I just marry Rodolphus? He always liked me better than my sister. Anyway, back to the curse. Apparently, a long time ago, the Malfoy family was very evil to muggleborns and halfbloods. More evil than now, as in they would capture all the muggleborns and halfbloods in an area and drag them back to their castle (yes they lived in a castle, crazy right?) and murder them in very creative and painful ways. Okay, so this is bad, but not the worst family secret I've heard. Well, it turns out, one of the supposed muggleborns (which mind you, they had no proof of anything bloodwise, they just went on hearsay) was a very powerful witch. She had tapped into the elements of the Earth somehow and become even more powerful than anyone. But she did not use her powers against her Malfoy captors. She simply begged for her life, offered them a chance to save themselves from eternal pain and punishment. They didn't believe her, especially because she was about to be dead. So they rebuked her, and they continued their abuse of her. And when she had finally been stripped of her very life, the oldest son raped her corpse. This was too far. The woman, who had combined her magic so strongly with the Earth around her, had become one with Isis, who was a goddess of the Earth. Isis was not happy with the Malfoy's that they had done such a terrible evil. So she cursed them. The curse was outlined in a book, with a rose on the cover. Lucius said the book had been lost ages before, but that the gist of it was as follows. As long as the pureblood of Malfoy endures, the men will be subject to transforming into a serpent and terrorizing their loved ones without mercy. Isis guides the snake, and makes the men watch as they murder their families. Still more, Isis is known as a goddess of fertility as well, and so as part of the curse, she will not let a Malfoy bear a female. I guess that's what happened to my first baby, though I don't want to believe it. It's all just too much. But Lucius says that he has an elixir he takes, to stop the transformations. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. When he feels a transformation coming on, he locks himself in the dungeons so that if he does change, Draco and I will be safe. I am still very confused and lost in all of this._

_-Bewildered Narcissa_

Hermione closed the journal with finality. There were a lot more entries, as Narcissa had kept the journal most of her remaining life. Hermione knew now that she needed to not only read the book she'd found in the library, but make sure Draco didn't find it before she was done. Every curse was able to be broken. She just needed to find a way.


	14. Chapter 14

Hermione looked at the clock, and realized she wouldn't have time to go over the book at the moment. She had to get ready for dinner. As if on cue, Arietta appeared. Hermione dressed in a silver gown which reminded her of a nightgown. It had thin straps and lace across the bodice. Though it hit the floor, it clung so tightly to her curves that she felt quite undressed.

She went down to dinner, but this time, Draco waited for her at the bottom of the stairs, the way he had her first night in the Manor. His eyes grazed over her body as she descended the stairs and when she reached the bottom, he offered his arm to her silently. Not wanting to break the silence in the moment, Hermione accepted his arm and let her lead him to the dining room.

The large table had been replaced with a small table for two with a candelabra and an ice bucket nearby. Hermione let Draco pull out her chair, and mentally thanked whatever had possessed her to wear this dress. Draco moved toward his seat, but he poured them each a glass of red wine before sitting. Just as before, he served her first, and Hermione blushed at his show of manners. It was expected and yet unexpected all at once.

"Hermione," Draco began as he sat across from her. "I wanted tonight to be a special dinner, because I wanted to apologize for keeping you here."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked quizzically. "The wards won't let me out even if I wanted to go."

"I… was not entirely truthful about that," he admitted.

"What?" Hermione wasn't angry yet, but she could feel a hot blush creeping up from her neck. "Stop mincing words, and explain," she demanded, adding at the last minute, "please."

"Technically the wards won't let anyone of lesser blood pass, that much is true. But I'll be honest; I could lift them if I wanted to." He cast his eyes down towards the table at his untouched wine glass.

"Then why are you keeping me here?" Hermione asked, reeling from his brevity.

"At first, I didn't know who you are, and then when I did, I wanted to know what you were after," he explained, without really explaining anything.

"And now?" Hermione probed.

"And now… I guess I like having you around."

"You know, I could be friends with you outside of these walls," Hermione said, as if speaking to a child.

"Don't talk down to me, Hermione. I know you wouldn't give me the time of day if we were in the real world."

Hermione examined her fingernails, avoiding his gaze. She knew he was right. If she hadn't gotten trapped here, she would have been at his throat trying to find his Death Eater ties. Now that she knew he wasn't involved with them (or so he said), she had no reason to bear any ill will towards him.

"Honestly, I came here to find out if you were still involved with the Death Eaters." Draco started to protest, but Hermione put up a hand to silence him. "And of course, you have explained yourself to the contrary, and I do believe that you've disavowed their lifestyle. Even after I realized you weren't a Death Eater, you kept me here, and I've actually come to like you in a way that I never did in school or in these past few years since. I hope you don't really believe that I would just go back to hating you. I have no reason, and I am a reasonable woman."

Draco raised his eyes to meet hers. "Really?"

"Of course, Draco. You've shown me a different side to yourself, and I like that side. This-" she gestured to the table, "This is the Draco I like. The one who does nice things, and eats my soup even though his House Elves didn't make it. The one who fences with me, and takes me out to meet the fairies. You are so different than I thought, and I have to say, I'm enchanted."

Draco smiled despite himself. She certainly had a way with words. She had truly grown away from the secretly insecure, know-it-all bookworm that he'd grown up with.

Hermione raised her glass. "I'd like to propose a toast to friendship."

Draco realized with a pang that she was his first real friend. She was the first one to not take advantage of him or try to use him for her own gains. She was willingly and happily his friend. A small part of him longed for something more than friendship, but mainly he was happy to have this much from her. "I'll drink to that," he said, bringing his glass to hers with a clink.

As he watched her rosy lips sip from the glass, he realized that he couldn't kill her. She wouldn't be the one to break the curse. He had never had a real friend before, and he wasn't going to go and kill his first one. Even if it meant he had to be a serpent forever. And if the curse didn't end soon, he would be.

xxx

After dinner, Hermione sat with Draco and read. They enjoyed each other's silent company, only moving to fill up a wine glass once in a while. When the clock struck ten, Hermione realized how tired she was.

"I'm going to bed," she announced, closing her book.

"Stay in a guest room tonight," Draco said, surprising her.

"What? Why?" Hermione asked.

"You shouldn't stay in that room," he went on, unhelpfully.

"Why shouldn't I, Draco? Use your words." Hermione was getting impatient and tired.

"There is a dark magic in the walls of that room. It was somewhere that my father sent my mother to punish her. She didn't realize it at the time, but over a long period, it drives its inhabitants crazy. It's activated by anger, and anger is something I have in great supply. I wouldn't want to accidentally hurt you." Draco said most of this without looking at her, but on the last sentence his eyes locked onto hers.

Hermione couldn't help herself as she leaned to kiss him gently on the lips. "Thank you, Draco. I'll sleep where I did last night." She started to leave, but then turned to say, "Got any other little household spells I should look out for?"

Draco looked at her oddly, and said, "Just Mother."

Hermione chuckled and left. She would stay in the guest room, but first she had to get the journal and the curse book from the tower room.

xxx

The next morning, Hermione woke up in the guest room, but this time it didn't seem strange, as she had put herself to bed the night before. Arietta had apparently caught on to her new dwelling and seemed very happy that morning.

"Good morning, Miss!" Arietta said, with a little bow. She placed a cup of hot tea on the bedside stand for Hermione, who took it gratefully.

"What has you so cheery, Arietta?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing, Miss," Arietta said vaguely.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the little elf, but dropped the subject. She knew she could force arietta to tell her, but she couldn't bring the happy elf's mood down.

"Arietta, would you like to do something for me?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yes, miss! Anything Miss needs! Master has told Arietta that Miss is her top priority," Arietta replied, nearly bouncing up and down.

"Would you please go to the room I used to stay in, up in the tower, and bring Narcissa's clothing to this closet?" Hermione asked.

"Certainly, Miss. Worry not!" With a snap, the elf was gone.

Hermione was happy to see Arietta in such a great mood, and honestly, she was in a good mood herself. Sure, Draco had admitted to locking her in the Manor on purpose and keeping her in a tower with Dark Magic to drive her insane, but somehow that was all even out by their new friendship. She felt like she could really give him a chance this time around.

And the first thing she wanted to do was find a way to break this curse. She started to pull out the book and begin working, but she noticed it was almost breakfast time, so she decided to eat first.

When Hermione got to the dining room, the cozy table from the night before had been replaced by the usual large table, but her seat was not in its ordinary spot. Instead, it was to Draco's left on the side of the table. She didn't know why he didn't have any extra chairs. The room seemed to be enchanted similarly to the Room of Requirement, in that it provided what Draco needed. Whatever magic was behind it, she liked this change. It would be nice to sit close enough to not have to yell.

"Why the new seating arrangement?" Hermione teased.

Draco smiled and said, "Those chairs had always been that way, because that's how my Mother and Father sat for meals. I find it cold and emotionless. I think this is better." He placed a hand on her arm and patted it lightly. "I like having you within arm's reach." He smiled again, and between the tiny flirt and the dazzling smile, Hermione felt herself blushing like a school girl.

They ate breakfast, chatting a little here and there about the food and the weather. It was small talk, but it wasn't terrible. It was comfortable. Hermione could not believe she actually felt comfortable eating breakfast with Draco Malfoy.

An owl appeared at the large glass window, and an elf appeared outside to retrieve the letter. With letter in hand, the elf apparated to just between them, where he bowed and handed Hermione the letter. "Letter for Miss Granger," he said to the floor.

"Thank you…." Hermione looked to Draco for a name. He shrugged. "That will be all for now," she finished, lamely.

The letter was addressed to:

_H. J. Granger_

_Malfoy Manor_

_Dining Room_

She thought it quite odd, considering no one knew she was there. Then she remembered the auto-address spell that Hogwarts used for their letters. This must have been the same spell. She pried open the letter and saw that it was from Harry:

_Hermione,_

_I hope this letter finds you! I tried the addressing spell McGonagall taught you, but I'm not sure if I did it right, because it filled itself out with an address at Malfoy Manor? If Malfoy is reading this, shove off, you git and send it to Hermione!_

_Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be returning from Romania after Halloween so that we can spend the holidays together. I wrote Ron as well, but I'm not sure if he'll come to visit, since he and Gloria don't like to leave Brazil if they don't have to. If I had a wife that hot, I wouldn't let her leave the house, let alone the country! (Okay, if I know you, Hermione, you're scowling and muttering about me being a chauvinist, but it was a joke okay? Unclench your jaw!)_

Hermione loosened her jaw. Even in a letter Harry could read her like a book. It made her smile.

_I know you're probably busy, so I'll keep this brief, but you and I __**will**__ be spending Christmas together, whether you like it or not!_

_Love,_

_H. J. Potter_

_P.S.: Our first two initials are the same._

_P.P.S.: I just freaked out because I realized you might be undercover, so I hope I didn't blow it! I'm sending this anyway!_

Hermione chuckled a little as she folded the letter up and put it under the edge of her plate.

"Everything okay?" Draco asked.

"What? Oh yes, of course. Why do you ask?"

"Because an owl just delivered mail to you. At my house. Where everyone thinks you're undercover learning my secrets." Draco said it like she was stupid.

"Oh, it was Harry. He doesn't know what I've been doing. He just used an auto-address spell," Hermione explained.

"Like the Hogwarts letters?" Draco asked.

"Exactly!" Hermione agreed.

"Well, I have to go to London on business," Draco said, standing.

"What do you do on these business outings?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Well, believe it or not, when my parents died, they left me the potions company, so I have to go down there every once in a while and shove wands up asses," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Well thanks for the wonderful imagery. I'm done with breakfast," Hermione said, her eyes wide.

"Sorry to put you off your waffles there," he said, pointing at her barely touched food. She had been so excited to talk to Harry and about learning about the curse that she had barely eaten a thing.

"That's alright," she said, standing. "Will you be home for lunch?" she asked.

"No, I'm eating with the shareholders, which is basically convocation of all my old fake friends and/or their families," He said, mimicking a noose around his neck.

Hermione laughed and said facetiously, "Have a nice day at the office, dear." She wrapped her arms around his neck affectionately and pecked him on the cheek.

"Act like that and maybe I won't go in today," he growled, dipping her down low and kissing her passionately.

Hermione was out of breath by the time he let her up. "Kiss me like that and maybe I shouldn't let you go."

"Seriously though," Draco said, "I can't miss this meeting, although I'd love to be here ravishing you." He winked at her.

Hermione blushed as red as a Weasley's head of hair, but manage to choke out, "Go on then."

Sending one last look her way, Draco threw floo powder in the fire place, yelled "Malfoy Potions Incorporated," and disappeared into the green flames.

Hermione pressed her fingers to her lips, as if expecting them to be heated from the kiss. He was so oddly affectionate at times, and distant at others. She just didn't know what to expect from him. Did that performance mean something to him, or was he just playing along with her ruse?

It didn't matter now. What mattered at the moment was that Hermione had all day to herself in the house to inspect that book.

**A/N: What do you think so far? Will Hermione figure out how to break the curse? Will she tell Draco she knows? Will she be too late to save him from his fate? More to come tonight!**

**Spoiler: The next chapter will be comprised of the contents of the little leather book!**


	15. Chapter 15

This curse book is dedicated to the Malfoy family curse. Perpetrated against them by the witch Sephora, this curse targets the males of the family and effectively prevents daughters from being born. The curse shall be explained later in this tome, but first, we must examine the perpetrator, Sephora.

Sephora is a witch who descended through the human line born of Isis, the goddess. Isis was the goddess of fertility. When she came to Earth, she mated with a human and had many children. However, when her husband Osiris found that she had mated with a human, he had all of her children murdered. Each of her children was killed, except one. Horus, her son was born without Osiris' knowledge, and he survived to bear children, and Isis' Earthly descendents were few, but they were strong. The mortal that Isis was in love with was also spared, though he never lost hope that his love would return to him. He protected their son until one day he married and bore a daughter. Isis and Horus' line would live on.

Horus' descendent, Sephora lived in the 1600s when the Malfoy family arrived. Decimus Malfoy had 5 sons, all who held his belief of superiority over witches and wizards with impure bloodlines. They persecuted those of muggle or half blood origins. The son's names were Romanus, Septimus, Atticus, Cicero and Cato. Cicero and Cato were identical twins, the eldest and most ruthless of the group. Decimus' wife, Athalia, had died of typhus a few years after Romanus' birth, so the boys had no woman's guidance to keep their prejudice and anger under control.

When the Malfoys arrived in Florence, they were the richest family the townspeople had ever seen. They were immediately given the king of Italy's summer castle to live in during their stay. Little did the townspeople know of the horrors the family would inflict.

To those reading in the future, let me give a short description of magic in the 1600s. After the fall of Rome, the belief in Gods and Goddesses that imbued their powers in the living through mating had long since faded. Instead, any magical abilities were looked upon as either miracles (if used by a seemingly righteous person) or witchcraft and blasphemy (if used by someone deemed less than righteous). Therefore it was very important that if one was a witch or wizard, that they be deeply involved in muggle spirituality.

In reality, most witches and wizards practiced the religion that spawned what would be later known as Wicca. They still remained devoted Christians in the public eye, but used their private Wiccan rituals to practice their abilities. Sephora was highly skilled in magic, and had long been the strongest witch in her coven. She was likely the strongest witch in Florence, though even she did not know of her ties to Isis.

A few nights after arriving in Florence, the boys rounded up any impure witch or wizard they had met. This included anyone born of a muggle, half blooded, or even a pureblood that had married a muggle and bore a child. Sephora had married a muggle and was pregnant by him, so she was rounded up with the rest.

It was surprising how quickly the boys had worked themselves into the culture and learned of the blood status of so many, but those who met them with their charm and wit were taken unawares and easily duped into releasing the information. It was said that the Malfoys had successfully rounded up every impure person in the town. They took their captives, more than 30 innocent people, back to the castle and put them in the spacious dungeons. Even with such space, it was a bit cramped for 30 people.

They detained their victims with magic, and began slaughtering. The children were killed first; their parents clutched the dead bodies in vain, attempting to have them spared. No children were spared that night. Next were the adults. The men were merciless in their tactics. They tortured the adults for hours before finally finishing them off. It took so long to torture everyone that they had to take a break to eat. They left the remaining live witches and wizards surrounded by the dead, and still bound by the magic.

The next night, the men returned to finish their work. Sephora had had an entire day to think about what they were going to do to her. One could only assume she was terrified. In the end, it was Cicero and Cato that dealt with Sephora. If it had been one of the other brothers, perhaps her rage would not be so terrible. But as fate had it, she was tortured by the terrible twins, who brought her to within an inch of her life many times before finally killing her. Cicero had always been the foulest by far, and he had his way with her corpse. Little did they know, Sephora was protected, as a descendent of Isis.

As the story has been told, there was a great light that filled the dungeons, even though it had no windows. A figure appeared before the men holding a single red rose. She spoke the following incantation:

_While the pureblood Malfoy thrives,_

_I cast this curse upon their lives._

_Evil snakes shall shed their skin,_

_Showing prejudice therein._

_Become what beast you most resemble,_

_As your families disassemble._

_Malfoy men shall live and cry,_

_As their sisters wilt and die._

_One sacrifice shall be sufficient,_

_From a bloodline thought deficient._

_While the pureblood Malfoy thrives,_

_I cast this curse upon their lives._

Isis's figure shook with anger. She cast the rose down upon Romanus, who was the youngest and noblest of the brothers. Bringing her hands together, a great light once again filled the room, and when Romanus came to, all the bodies were gone, and where his brothers and father once stood, there were 4 snakes, their tales tangled in a knot, binding them together. Romanus, being of dim intellect, thought it was a four headed snake, so in his fear, he struck them down with his wand.

The curse bears markers on the Malfoy family that will persist until the curse is broken.

The Malfoy family may no longer bear females. Any female born of a Malfoy seed will perish in the womb.

Any Malfoy heir born will suffer the curse. Beginning on his Twenty-First birthday, as this was the age of Romanus, he will transform. The transformation is ill-described in the history of the Malfoy family, but it seems to be triggered by hate or anger. The form of the transformation is a serpent, and if the curse is not broken after a certain number of transformations, the change is permanent.

The curse speaks of a sacrifice, but through the ages, one has not been found, at least not at the time of this writing.

To those who read this curse book, I hope you have found the answers you seek, and I hope you never know the pain of transformation.


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione pored over the little leather book all afternoon. It seemed to be written by a Malfoy who was afflicted by the curse. She wondered who could have written it. Without another moment's thought, she tucked her notes into the binding gingerly, and took the book with her downstairs. After a little fumbling to find her way, she made it to the hall of portraits outside Draco's office.

The portraits only went back to 1750. She hoped that would be far back enough, though it looked like some of the older ones no longer moved. She worked her way around the hall, looking at the portraits. She could eliminate the females, because they all would have married into the family. She tried to look for someone who was writing or had a similar book in the portrait, because he would doubtless be known for writing it, even if Narcissa stated in her journal that it was lost.

She thought she had finally narrowed it down to a couple portraits, so she boldly walked up to one.

Looking at the name plate first, she addressed him, "Aneas Malfoy?"

The portrait raised a hand to its mouth, cough once, and replied, "Yes?" It seemed that no one had tried to talk to him in quite some time, for he was a bit hoarse.

"Did you write this book?" she asked, holding it where he could see the rose etched into the leather cover.

"No, but I am the one who hid it in the library," he responded calmly.

"Who wrote it, sir?" she asked politely.

"My Father," he replied, jerking his finger to the right. "Two paintings over."

"Thank you for your help," Hermione said.

"No one ever wants to talk to me…" she heard Aneas mutter.

"Victor Malfoy?" Hermione was surprised at how simple the name was. The Malfoys were always so elaborate with their naming.

"Yes?" the painting responded snippily.

"Hi, I was wondering, did you write this book?" she asked, trying to ignore his attitude. She held it up for him to see.

"Didn't my son just tell you I did?" he asked, looking away.

"Oh, don't be that way Victor, I simply would love your side of the story, rather than your son's. After all, you wrote this tome. The literature was simply scintillating. I was very impressed by your skill." Hermione figured flattery couldn't hurt, especially with a Malfoy.

He seemed to puff up a bit at her praise, and turned back to face her. "Well, my dear, I did write that. But as you are a woman, I dare say you are not a Malfoy. You also look quite common, so I should have noted it immediately. Why are you reading about the Malfoy curse if it will have no bearing on you?"

"The current Master of the house is a good friend of mine." She stressed the word good in a way that she hoped was believable. "I want to help him break the curse."

The portraits along the wall all turned to stare at her for a moment, then started whispering to each other. It seemed they all had an interest in the curse. _Of course, _Hermione thought. _All the men suffered from the transformations, and the women were probably killed by the serpents._

"No one has bro the curse over the course of centuries, Miss. Do you really think you're smart enough to outwit Sephora, descendent of Isis?" the portraiture of Victor said coldly.

"You don't know me, Victor. I've been called the smartest witch of the age, and I have an Order of Merlin First Class. So why don't you let me worry about breaking it," she retorted smartly.

Victor's wife's portrait thought it was pretty funny, but Victor didn't seem to appreciate the sass. He stared at her for a moment, then said, "Is there anything I can help you with then, know-it-all?" The way he said it reminded her comically of Draco.

"Well, the book said that Sephora was a Wiccan, which makes me think I'll need more information about the night it happened. Are there any details that were passed down to you that you didn't mention because they seemed trivial?" Hermione asked. She needed as much information as possible.

"I know that the curse was created on Samhain, so Halloween to you," he said.

"That does help. So the second night of torture was Halloween?" she asked to clarify.

"Yes. They had planned to do the deed the night before so they could celebrate on the most sacred holiday, but they were having so much fun, they didn't want to stop. I suppose I should have mentioned also that witch's blood spilt on Samhain is a very bad omen in Wiccan culture. I'll bet that she made sure to bleed as much as possible to give power to her spell." Victor yawned, and Hermione guessed he had gotten everything out of him she could.

"Thank you very much for your help, sir. You've done the Malfoy name proud," she said graciously, trying not to choke on her words. She hurried back upstairs. She had one more thing to do before Draco got home for dinner.

xxx

Back in the guest room that had become her new room, Hermione made magical copies of every page of the little book. She then meticulously blacked out every mention of the surname Malfoy. Once she was certain no one would know who the curse referred to, she conjured a thick envelope to hold the pages. She wrote a short note to Charlie.

_Bill,_

_Hey, how are you? Sorry I haven't gotten to visit you, Fleur and Victoire, but I've been a bit busy with things as you probably know. I'm writing because you're the best (and only) curse-breaker I know, and I've been researching a very old curse. It also has some ties to Egypt, so I thought you would be the best person to help me. If there are any details you can glean from the attached text, please let me know, no matter how trivial._

_Thank you so much,_

_H. J. Granger_

"Arietta?" Hermione called, not sure if the elf would hear her. Faithful as always, Arietta arrived immediately. "Would you please send this letter for me? It is also quite private in nature, so if you would not men it to your Master, I would appreciate it."

"Arietta will do her best, Miss," the house elf said with a little bow. A moment later she was gone, but Hermione knew she'd be back soon to help her dress for dinner.

Hermione flopped face-down on the bed and started going through her notes one more time. She knew there was something she was missing, and she thought it might be in the wording of the curse. She was just thinking she should do more research into Wiccan spells and Egyptian culture 9as that w where Isis was from) when she heard someone coming up the stairs.

She quickly tucked the book under the mattress where the journal was already hidden. She crossed her arms flat on the bed in front of her and rested her head on them, trying to relax.

Soon, the knock came and Hermione knew it must be Draco.

"Who is it?" she called out sweetly.

"Who do you think?" Draco's voice replied. "Are you decent?"

"Depends on what you think of my blood status, but come on in," Hermione said, chuckling to herself.

Draco pushed open the door and Hermione was taken by the sight of him. His hair was windblown and a little damp, and his cheeks were flushed, probably from the bite of cold wind. "You know I could care less about all that, Hermione," he said chastisingly.

Hermione looked him over once more. He was still in his outdoor cloak, and the whole of him was soaking wet. "Ugh, you're soaked," she commented. Then she pulled out her wand and cast, "_Exaresco_," being careful to avoid his face. She had read about a mishap where a wizard tried to dry his girlfriend's tears and ended up evaporating her eyeballs.

Draco pulled his now-dry cloak off and flopped down on the bed next to her. "Here," she said, conjuring a tow to dry his face.

"Thanks," he muttered. He wiped his face, and then sighed. "Today was absolutely terrible," he said.

"I wondered what warranted a visit. You've _never_ been in my _room_ before," she said in a funny voice.

He couldn't help but crack a smile. "Well before you were in an evil room, where if I'd gotten mad at you would've put us both out of our minds. Besides, we only decided to be friends just last night."

"Friendship doesn't explain that kiss before you left earlier, though," Hermione muttered to herself.

"What?" Draco asked, mishearing her.

"Nothing, go on, tell me about your day," she said dejectedly.

"No, there's something bothering you, and you're muttering things you don't want me to hear, so spill," he said commandingly.

"I said, friendship doesn't explain that kiss before you left earlier."

"I was just joking around, come on," Draco said unconvincingly

"You know you weren't one hundred percent joking with _that_ much tongue involved," Hermione said raising an eyebrow.

"Guilty," he admitted. "But you just have this… thing about you."

"What thing?" Hermione asked, immediately thinking the worst.

"No, no, it's good, I think. It's like… fiery or something. I don't know exactly what it is or what it means, but when I'm around you there's just this undeniable…" he trailed off, looking for the word.

"Sexual tension?" Hermione offered.

"Exactly," he said, sounding relieved. "Wait, don't you feel it too?" he asked, getting worried.

"I do, but I don't know if it's a good thing to give into it," she said. His face fell and she added, "At least not yet. I've definitely dated and been with a few guys-men over the years, but I don't want to rush this. Like you said, we only became friends last night, so let's just give this a try for a while and keep our hands off each other."

"I have no problem keeping my hands off you, but I don't know how you'll last, having to be around my animal magnetism all day," Draco said, rolling over onto his back. He sighed and put his arms behind his head, flexing his biceps in the process.

"Ooh, very subtle Draco. How can I ever resist you now," she said, drawing close to his lips. Just as he was about to reach up to kiss her, she pushed the nearest pillow in his face, laughing. "I'm serious, Malfoy! Hands off for a while!"

He pushed her off him and growled, but it was playful. "Fine, you want it that way Granger? Then why don't you get ready for dinner, and I'll meet you downstairs in a bit?"

Hermione nodded and watched him leave. Once he was gone, she fell back on the bed, pillow over her face. _Hands off? What are you thinking, Hermione? You won't last a day._ Her subconscious just wasn't on her side today, and the sad part was, it was probably right.


	17. Chapter 17

Dinner that night was mostly uneventful. They ate some pork loin with an orange sauce while Hermione tried to focus on something other than Draco's sexy hands. Draco had to avert his eyes while she at her asparagus, and tried to think about anything other than her lush lips. Over dessert, Hermione was fighting her feelings for him as while as fighting the urge to tell him that she knew about the curse. She couldn't decide whether it would be better to tell him she knew and have him on her side to figure it out, or to wait until she'd solved it and let him know everything at once. That is, if she ever solved it at all.

After dinner, Draco went to read and Hermione tried to decide what to do with herself. She could sit here and read with Draco and feel the all-encompassing sexual tension that they were both trying to fight off, or she could go up to her new room and work on the problem of the curse. She decided on the latter and yawned loudly.

"I'm going to lie down, it's been a long day," Hermione said.

"It's barely seven," Draco pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you know the saying, 'early to be early to rise… something something wise.'" Hermione tried to act nonchalant, but hurried out of the dining area and up to her room.

Locking the door behind her, she pulled out the curse book and the journal. She decided she had probably gotten everything she could out of the curse book for now, since she had Bill going over it. She put that back and focused on the journal. She still hadn't finished Narcissa's entries.

She flipped to the part she had finished at, where Narcissa wrote what she thought she knew about the curse. It wasn't completely factual, and some of the details had been blurred in Narcissa's explanation, but it was helpful because it gave an insight to what Lucius thought he knew about the curse. According to Narcissa's account, the curse book had been lost for years, so it made sense that they didn't know everything about it.

AS she read the rest of the journal, she learned more about Narcissa. She had been so protective of Draco, but from her prison in the tower, she couldn't protect Draco. It seemed that once Draco went to school, things got a little better for Narcissa and Lucius as a couple, for there were some entries, but not many. In the summers, she had convinced Lucius to go away, to keep Draco safe. Up until the Dark Lord's return, it had worked. _That's why there were only records for certain months in Lucius' cabinet_, Hermione thought to herself.

It was in the entries about the Dark Lord's return to power that Hermione found out something shocking. Nagini the snake had actually been Abraxas, Draco's grandfather. Apparently, if the curse is not broken by a certain age or number of transformations, the serpent form becomes permanent, and this had happened to Abraxas. The family records said he died of Dragon Pox, which Hermione found odd. But then, if a head of household died of a mysterious curse, wouldn't it be best to save face if possible? Hermione knew the Malfoys were not wont to show weakness.

According to Narcissa's journal, Abraxas had been turned a long time ago and had been given to the Dark Lord by Lucius before the first wizarding war, when Harry did not die. Hermione could only guess he had turned the snake into a horcrux then, and in between Voldemort's death and rebirth in the graveyard, the snake had lived in the Malfoy dungeons.

Hermione was glad that she personally had never been in the dungeons, even if her fate in the drawing room had been worse. That was the only room she had been too frightened to enter during her stay at the Manor so far. She just didn't know if she could handle it.

Hermione had finally made it toward the end of the journal. Narcissa seemed to be going insane, but not as quickly as Aurora Malfoy had. Narcissa seemed to be holding up better, but the last journal entry was a bit shocking.

_I think I'm losing my mind. The walls keep changing in this room, and the floor falls away when I try to leave the bed. This reminds me of my nightmares, and I don't know what's real and what's not. I can't trust my mind anymore. And now, at this moment, I'm hearing things. I'm hearing a hissing sound. The snake from my nightmares just came in. It can't be real please don't be real please_

There was a line of ink after the last please, which was written in a frantic handwriting. Hermione suppressed the chills that ran down her spine. Yes, it was possible that the snake wasn't real. But for Narcissa to be having that kind of nightmare while awake would require serious drugs or insanity. The entries before that one didn't seem as bad as Aurora had gotten. Could the snake have been real?

Hermione dropped the journal as she realized that Lucius Malfoy had most likely transformed into a snake and killed his wife. Extreme anger would explain the powerful visualizations the room gave her, and that same anger would have fueled his transformation as well. Saddest of all, being violently murdered by your husband in snake form would be a painful enough death to produce a ghost. Hermione wondered if she should ask Narcissa what happened.

She checked the clock on the wall. It was just past midnight. She quickly stored her memories from the day in her necklace, not wanting to lose anything she'd learned, and then left her room. She crept down the stairs and along the corridor until she reached the library. She pushed the door open, which protested with a loud creak. Hermione looked around, but no one seemed to have heard her. She padded into the room and saw that the windows were still open, giving a gorgeous view of the night sky.

Forgetting her goal to find Narcissa, Hermione went back to the windows to get a better view. The panorama was simply breathtaking, and Hermione slid down to sit on the floor and simply stare.

She was pulled out of her reverie a few minutes later by voices in the front of the library. She stayed low and crawled toward the end of the stack to see if she could discern who it was. She couldn't see from that far back, so she began creeping up towards the front. Once she got close enough, she could tell it was Draco talking to Narcissa.

"I'm not going to do it, Mother."

"You have to break the curse. It is the only way."

"It didn't work when Father did it. I don't think sacrifice is the right way."

"The curse clearly says sacrificing a mudblood is the way to break the curse."

"How would you know? You haven't even seen the curse book. All I know is what you've told me, and what Father taught me. All I know is that I've been taking an elixir extracted from muggleborn blood, and it never helped as much as simply having her in the house has. I haven't even come close to transforming since I kissed her."

"You kissed her? No wonder she's been snooping around…"

"What? Why didn't you tell me, you fickle woman?"

Hermione heard a whooshing sound and took it to mean that Narcissa had flown off. A few moments later she heard a creak and knew that Draco had left as well. Hermione lay there in a stray beam of moonlight for a while. She hoped Draco wouldn't be mad at her. All she wanted t do was help him. Why hadn't Narcissa told him she was looking into the curse? Did Narcissa want Hermione to realize the only way was sacrifice and give herself up to Draco to be slaughtered?

No, there was no way that was happening. After all, she doubted the way to break a curse you got for killing someone was by killing someone else. It just didn't make any sense. She hoped Bill would get back to her soon. It was painful for her to wait and simply not know.

She remembered what Draco said about not changing since they had kissed. Maybe there was something to that. She would have to think it over and compare it with what she knew about the curse.

Hermione stood and went to leave, when a presence behind her made her turn.

The ghost of Narcissa Malfoy was behind her, hands on her hips. "Were you spying on us?" the ghost asked angrily.

"No ma'am," Hermione said shakily. "I came in here to look for you. I-I finished your journal."

"And?" Narcissa's ghost was much less patient than the Narcissa who wrote the journal had seemed.

Hermione unknowingly dropped her voice to a whisper. "Did Lucius kill you?" she asked.

Narcissa seemed to ponder that for a few moments before responding. "Yes, I suppose he did. At the time, I thought I was having a nightmare, but I never woke up. I should have known it was real; I had never written in my journal while I was in a nightmare before." The ghost sighed and turned away. "I had almost learned to love him before I died."

With that, Narcissa disappeared through a stack of books.


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione slept fitfully that night. She didn't even manage to fall asleep until about 4 in the morning. The next day when she woke up it was nearly noon. She would have slept longer if it weren't for the owl knocking on her window. She opened the window and let it in, where it dropped a letter on the bed and flew away unceremoniously. She closed the window with a snap, trying to avoid the overwhelming urge to go back to sleep.

She sat back on the bed and slid a fingernail under the seal. She recognized it immediately as being from Kingsley Shacklebolt. It was not the seal he used from his office, but the one he used for Order communications. She flipped open the letter, expecting the worst.

_H. G.-_

_Due to your failure to report in the past few weeks, we have been maintaining a silence in communications. However it has come to our attention that you have been in contact with Harry Potter via owl, which may compromise what you are involved in. After consideration, we decided it would be best to write and establish that you are well and request an update on your condition._

_Awaiting your response,_

_K.S._

Hermione groaned. Reading between the lines of the letter, she could tell Kingsley was pissed. She hadn't transmitted any memories back to them or tried to contact since she'd been there. 2 weeks was nothing on a mission like she was supposed to be on, but now they knew she'd contacted Harry. All the little code words proved they still considered her to be on the mission, and she hadn't sent them anything to prove otherwise.

Hermione wrung her hands and tried to think of a way to explain what was going on. She needed to write the letter in such a way that they would know she was in no danger but that she also needed to be allowed to stay.

She sat at the small desk in the corner and found some parchment and a quill.

_K-_

_My research has gone in a different way than I had imagined. What we all assumed is quite to the contrary and bears further scrutiny. In the meantime a new matter has come to my attention that requires my expertise and knowledge. I hope you understand, I will be remaining here for a while to sort this matter out. There is no need to send any help, for I have the matter well in hand._

_Hope to see you soon._

_H. G._

Hermione hoped that would be enough to first of all exonerate Draco as a Death Eater and second of all keep them off her back for a while. Hermione couldn't believe she was actually trying to avoid the Order. Draco Malfoy had infiltrated her life, her being. Somehow, despite how she got there, despite him putting her in the tower, all she wanted to do was help him. It felt something like destiny. Hermione guessed it was just in her nature to help people, but somehow this seemed different.

xxx

Dinner that night was simple, and it was a relief to Hermione. Draco had held up his end of the bargain by not pushing their friendship any farther. She tried her best to focus on the food, but the weight of knowledge was heavy, and she couldn't help but tell him that she knew.

"Draco," she began, but didn't know where to start.

He looked up from his soup. He loved the way she said his first name; her tongue dragging over the R. "What is it?" he asked, concerned.

"I have a confession to make," she said nervously.

"Before you say anything, I wanted to ask you something." He countered. "I know that we both know I could lift the wards and let you go, but at the end of the month I'm having a Halloween party, and I was wondering if you'd stay until then."

"Another Death Eater soiree?" she asked.

"No, I was actually going to invite most of my staff from work along with some old schoolmates. I thought it would be a good step towards a fresh start," he said. He was nervous about what she'd say.

"Well, I'm sure I won't know much of anyone, but I'll stay that long if you'd like."

"It's less than 2 weeks away, and I can have my personal shopper get you a lovely costume." He smiled at her as the elves swapped the soup bowls for the main course. "Now that I've got that off my chest, what did you want to say?"

"I…" she bolstered her courage and decided to get it over with. "I know about the curse."

Draco's mouth dropped open in shock, and a piece of chicken fell out of his mouth inelegantly. He quickly grabbed a napkin and cleaned up his mouth while stuttering out, "How—who?"

"I found a journal in the tower bedroom. It was written in by your Grandmother, your father and your mother. In it they talked about the curse, and I found the book with the details." She looked down, unsure what else to say, or how he would react.

"The… that book has been missing for almost a hundred years," he said, confused.

"And I'll bet that library was built over a hundred years ago then," she said pointedly.

"Yeah, the Manor's a hundred and fifty years old. Was it in the library the whole time?" he shook his head, trying to absorb it all.

"Yes. I saw it in a dream, and then I went to look and there it was. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I wanted to help you break the curse," she said.

"Well you can't!" Draco yelled, slamming his hands against the table. "I won't let you!" he stormed out of the room before Hermione could say anything else.

Draco went straight to his study without stopping. Slamming the door behind him, he punched the heavy wood top of his desk. Even that pain couldn't snap him back from his anger. He tried to calm down and poured himself a glass of firewhiskey.

He tried to calm his breathing, but nothing was helping. _If that stupid girl wants to die for me I should just let her!_ His subconscious was putting up a good fight, but Draco knew in his heart that there was no way he could let Hermione be the sacrifice. Nothing about their friendship had been normal, hell he'd made her life a living hell every day of school, but now he felt he had a second chance with her.

Thinking of Hermione sacrificing herself just made Draco angrier and he threw his glass in the fire. It flared up as the alcohol burned, and Draco could feel his anger raging out of even his control. He gasped as his heart rate went up and the telltale cold starting overtaking his limbs.

He cursed and stumbled toward the door. He had to get to the dungeon before he got out of control. He made his way quickly down the hall, bumping into the walls on either side as leg muscles gave way. He was almost there. He just had to get to the dungeon door outside the drawing room.

His vision began to swim as his pupils changed to slits. He made it to the dungeon door and threw himself inside, tapping the door with his wand to bolt it from the outside. He stumbled down the stairs and almost fell, but hurried over to the far end of the dungeon.

His arm hair bristled and he knew he was getting close. Every pore in his body ached as scales pushed out of them, covering his body. Knowing he was running out of time, he grabbed the shackles and tugged the chains to make sure they were still strong. He attached the large one around his waist, the barbs ripping his shirt and digging into his skin. One more went around his neck and the final one locked his ankles together.

Draco's back arched forward as his spinal cord began to change. The skin on his legs began to fuse together as the fabric of his trousers fell away. Next the leg bones knitted together with his spinal cord as it elongated his body. His arms were immoveable as they became one with his torso. His neck elongated and his chin receded becoming the head of the monster he'd so feared as a child.

He fell forward as his feet pointed, then fused to become a tail. The whole process was so painful; he couldn't even manage to cry out. His eyes moved to either side of his head, and he finally let out a strangled cry before his tongue split and his vocal chords dissolved.

The transformation was complete. Draco's mind was slipping away, overcome by the cold calculating predator's mind. His last thoughts were of Hermione, hoping he didn't get free, and wondering how long the transformation would last this time.


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione paced around the dining room after he stormed out. What was his problem? Was he really that repellant to anyone who tried to help him? She would not be deterred from solving the mystery of the curse. Hermione Granger always finished a task when she put her mind to it. She didn't get where she was in life by quitting.

Although, where was she really? She hadn't ever really gotten a real job. She had dabbled here and there in pursuit of the Order's goals, but she'd never had a normal adult life, just like she never had a normal childhood. The fame she'd gotten as Harry Potter's best friend hadn't helped her be any more normal, but at the same time, it had its benefits. After all, she'd been living on her share of the bounty money for the past 4 years. She wondered how much longer she could live on that money alone before she had to get a job.

Hermione snapped herself back to reality when she heard a crash from the direction of Draco's office. She was still quite far from there, but she rushed in the general direction to make sure he was okay. When she got there, the door was ajar, but Draco wasn't inside. The fire was roaring higher than normal, so she used _aguamenti_ to calm the flames.

After a quick sweep of the office, she was certain Draco wasn't there. She decided he must have run off somewhere. She hoped he wasn't still mad, but she knew in her heart he had to be. She crept down the hallway, noting that the runner had been shoved aside. He must have gone in this direction

Hermione turned to her best tracking abilities to seek him out. She had been on more than one mission that involved tracking a witch or wizard's movements, sometimes hours after they'd been there. She'd honed the skills over the years, but hadn't used them lately. She figured the first step would be to reveal any footprints.

She held her wand out, and cast, "_Viam Revelio._" A few sets of footprints appeared on the ground in front of her. She recognized some of the dimmer ones as house elves. These dim footprints were the oldest. Those that glowed brighter were human, and must have been Draco's size 10 Italian leather shoes.

She followed them down the hall and around a corner. She started to feel a heaviness in her chest as she realized they were nearing the drawing room. She had avoided this area of the Manor the entire time she'd been there. But now being so close, that same old constricting feeling came back. It was the way she had felt for months after she was tortured. IT was the feeling she'd come to wake up with every morning after the nightmares that plagued her sleep. She hadn't slept properly for almost a year after it happened.

Finally she had gone to a therapist to work things out. Eventually she was able to sleep without being plagued by nightmares and after much work on her self-esteem and identity she could even go without glamouring the scars. She had been so proud of her progress, and now it seemed like it was all unraveling around her just by being in proximity.

She decided with finality that she needed to face up to her fears, and that now was the time to do it. She knew she needed to find Draco, but honestly, if he was mad, her showing up wouldn't help things. She saw the door to the drawing room up ahead. She bolstered up her courage and walked to the door handle.

Cautiously, she turned the handle, as though thinking Bellatrix Lestrange were waiting to jump out at any moment. She mentally berated herself for being foolish since she knew Lestrange was dead, but the fear was still there. She pushed the door open quickly, but the room lay docilely in front of her.

It seemed that Draco or his mother had redecorated since that terrible day. Much like the rest of the house, this room was a testament to its former glory, but it was still a far cry from beautiful. The hard wooden floor that she'd landed on while under the torture of _Crucio_ had been covered by a fine rug. Any presence of her blood in the floorboards was covered now, to Hermione's relief. It looked like the chair itself had been disposed of or moved. That chair had been a star player in her nightmares, so she felt calmer knowing, or at least assuming, it wasn't in the house.

Hermione looked up to the ceiling, and there she finally connected the room with her memories. She had a flash back of the horrible day and passed out.

xxx

Hermione awoke what seemed like hours later, though it couldn't have been too long. She rubbed her head and made a mental note to overcome this feminine habit of fainting at any sign of trouble. Really, she didn't know what had gotten into her lately. She tried to remember what she was doing before her flashback, and stood up with a start. Draco was still missing. Surely he would have come and found her by now if he had heard her screams. She didn't remember if she had screamed much or at all, but she remembered her night terrors had always devolved into bloodcurdling screams.

She hurried back out to the hallway and cast the charm again to reveal footprints. His tracks were still there, but fainter this time. It must have been a couple of hours. She tried to follow them, but his footing was unsteady. Finally she saw that they led to a heavy wood and metal door that was barred shut from her side. She hesitated for a moment before she opened it. Surely this was locked for a reason, but Hermione knew Draco was on the other side and she needed to check on him.

She cautiously opened the door and met darkness within. There was a set of stairs, which led down to what she assumed were the dungeons. She remembered with a jolt Arietta's words her first morning at the Manor.

"_You may feel free to make yourself at home. But you must eat with Master for meals, and you may not go into the dungeons or else…"_

She considered turning back, but supposed that Draco couldn't be mad if she was just trying to help him. She crept down the stairs, trying to keep her sure footing in the dim light. When she got to the bottom of the stairwell, he eyes began to adjust to the lack of light. She saw something moving at one end of the dungeon, so she approached it silently.

Once she was close enough, she saw that it was the giant green serpent from her dream. Her breath caught in her throat as her mind put the pieces together. She'd been having nightmares of Draco transformed, and now here he was.

The noise of her gasping seemed to stir the snake, and he turned his wicked head toward her. Hermione stared into its silver eyes, but she could find no shred of Draco in the beast before her. The serpent pulled its head up, as if to strike, and Hermione backed all the way up against the wall.

Chest heaving from fear, she raised her arms over her head as the snake struck. "Draco!" she screamed, out of some irrational hope that he would hear her and stop.

As luck would have it, the snake did stop, but not because of her wailing. It was stopped by the cuff around its middle. The serpent had apparently pushed past its reach and the barbs had become lodged in the snake's stomach, ripping it open viciously.

Hermione gasped and her eyes welled up with tears, because no matter what mental state the snake was in, part of it was still Draco. She could only hope that if-_when _she forced herself to think-he turned back his wounds would be healed.

She sat there, sobbing while the snake bled out on the dungeon floor. It seemed she waited for hours, but just as her weeping eyes began to ache from dryness, the serpent began to change shape. Slowly but surely the large green snake became Draco Malfoy, who lay still and bleeding on the cold stone floor.

Hermione's hope that he would emerge unscathed had been too much to wish for it seemed. She quickly went to his side and looked for a pulse. It was there, but barely. She unhooked the cuffs on his ankles and neck, and gingerly removed the one around his torso last of all. There was a lot of blood, but the cuts on his ankles and neck weren't very deep. From the look of it all, it seemed like she could heal him, but it was a race against time now.

She hefted him up into her arms bridal style and rushed him up the stairs as best as she could. She couldn't think of where to take him, so she got him up to her room and laid him out on the bed.

"Arietta!" she called, coming back to her senses. The elf appeared looking very nervous and afraid.

"Yes, Miss?" she asked with a lopsided little curtsy.

"Hot water and clean towels, now," she snapped. She had no time to be polite. She needed to save Draco's life.

In the time it took her to think that she literally had his life in her hands, Arietta was back with a steaming bowl of water and six or seven white hand towels. Hermione wordlessly dipped the first one in the water bowl and began to clean the wounds around his torso first. She cleaned the four wounds on the front, and realized she couldn't flip him over and keep the front sterile.

"Arietta, prop him up into a sitting position," she commanded. Arietta immediately complied, standing on the bed next to her Master. She held his shoulders carefully, but kept him immobile while Hermione cleaned the wounds. Once Hermione was sure that the threat of infection for his torso was gone, she cleaned his neck and then his ankles.

She then set to healing the wounds with her wand. A simple _Episkey_ wouldn't work as well for wounds so deep. Instead she used _Vulnera Sanentur_, remembering wryly that the last time Draco had needed that healing spell (in her knowledge at least) was when Harry used _Sectumsempra_ against him.

Once the wounds were cleaned and healed, she checked his pulse again. He was still weak, and his skin was still ashen.

"Arietta," she said, more kindly this time. "Does Master have a first aid kit?"

Arietta nodded silently, her tennis-ball sized eyes full of tears.

"Hurry up and see if he has a blood-replenishing potion in there. If not, you have my permission to go to whatever late night pharmacy you can find to get one."

Arietta nodded again and disappeared. Hermione tried to remember everything she knew about first aid in the muggle world. Anything would help right now. She checked his forehead, but he didn't seem to have a fever. In fact, he seemed very cold. She rationalized that it might be due to the transformation, but she knew that the blood loss had to do with it. She moved his unconscious body so that his head was on the pillow and pulled the down comforter over him.

After a moment's hesitation, she climbed in next to him under the blanket and cradled his head in her arms. She didn't know if he would survive this, and maybe part of him didn't want to, but in that moment she couldn't imagine a world without Draco Malfoy. How funny that less than three weeks ago she had been ready to accuse him of treason and murder, and now here she was caring for him like a sick child. He had worked his way into her heart and she would have a tough time getting him back out.

As she looked down at his gentle face, she realized that maybe she didn't want him out of her heart. His angel soft hair was tickling her arm, and almost seemed to glow against his ashen skin. She stroked his forehead caringly, pushing the hair away from his eyes.

Arietta arrived back with a vial in hand. Hermione thanked her and took the vial. Gently opening his mouth, she poured the thick silver liquid into him little by little. His unconscious body seemed to retain some autonomy because he swallowed naturally.

Once the potion was gone, she watched as the skin around his heart began to regain a pink tinge and the warmth spread throughout his body. Finally, when his fingers regained their colour, his eyes fluttered open.

The first thing Draco saw when he awakened was a wall of brown curls. Then they moved and chestnut brown eyes met his grey ones. He tried to speak, but Hermione held a finger to his lips. It felt so soft and warm. He almost wanted to lick it, but he knew that would ruin the moment. Her arms were cradling his head to her chest and her warmth was welcome to his cold body. He felt the softness of her breasts through her dress and it stirred something within him.

He realized something with a start, and said, "Granger, I'm naked."

"That doesn't bother me, just rest," she assured him, stroking his face so he would relax back into her arms.

"What… how?" He seemed at a loss for words, but Hermione knew what he was asking.

"I went looking for you after you stormed off. Eventually I found you in the dungeons."

"You what?" His eyes flared with anger, but mostly concern.

"Shh... be calm. You need to rest," she advised calmly.

"I could have killed you," he said in a pained voice.

"I stayed out of your reach. The snake probably would have killed me if it had the chance, but you obviously restrained yourself first, so I was fine. But you did get injured." She pulled up the blanket and showed him his torso. "I did the best I could with the wounds, but they left some scars on your torso. Your ankles and neck are fine though."

Draco moaned and turned on his side to snuggle up to her. "You don't know how much pain I would be in if I ever hurt you," he said. Hermione didn't respond, and they were quiet for a while, but Hermione couldn't stop the hot tears that fell from her eyes unbidden. She didn't know if it was from relief that he was alright or from the passion behind his words.

A few minutes later, Hermione spoke. "How did you transform?" she asked hesitantly.

"I got angry and it got out of control. When that happens, the best I can do is lock myself in the dungeons and wait it out," he explained.

"But I thought you had it under control?" she asked. "I thought you were taking an elixir."

Draco was quiet for a moment before answering. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind. "Ever since we… ever since I kissed you that night, I haven't had any symptoms. As long as we were having contact of some kind, I didn't need the elixir. All it does is calm me down, not really prevent anything. But with you around, I wasn't even having any of the markers at all. It was better than the elixir. I just didn't think I needed it." He kind of trailed off, as if looking for the next thing to say. "It makes me… different when I take it. It makes me cold and distant. It's kept me from enjoying every relationship I've attempted as an adult. But with you it was different. You changed something in me, and without having to take the elixir, I could be myself."

"And then I insisted on a hands-off policy," Hermione supplied, understanding.

"I didn't think it would work like that. I assumed just being around you would be enough, but I guess it was… the touching." He looked away for a moment, and then curled back up against her. "I need you Hermione. That's why I can't let you do this."

"Why can't you let me help you?" she asked, confused.

"Because the curse calls for a sacrifice, and I can't let you give up your life for me. Better that I die than you give any part of your life for me," he said sadly. "It's probably best that I die anyway. The line will end and the curse will end with me."

"No, no, Draco, that can't be the only answer," she pleaded. "There has to be another way."

"That was my third transformation," he said idly. "I don't know how many full transformations I have before I turn out like my Grandfather."

Hermione was quiet for a while, tears clouding up her eyes again. It was just so unfair. She finally felt something more than just friendship towards a man, and he had a death wish. She didn't know how she could go on if she had to watch him die, or worse be trapped as a snake for the rest of his life.

"I won't let you," she said bravely. "I will find a way. Don't worry about the how; just let me figure it out. Now you need to rest," she said, pulling the covers up around him.

'Will you stay with me?" he asked meekly.

Hermione smiled endearingly at him and said, "Of course. You are in _my_ bed, after all."

Draco fell asleep quickly after that, but Hermione remained awake for a while, pondering how she would keep her promise to Draco.

**A/N: I just wanted to thank you all for your continued support. I have become so caught up in this story that I literally dream about it at night. The days when I can't write I just ponder storylines and it really seems like this tale is writing itself. Your reviews really do help me to see this from another point of view, though, so I appreciate every single one! I think this story may be over this week, but that's a few chapters away, so we'll see.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Guys, I want to go ahead and apologize… this chapter has been a nightmare for me. The power keeps going out and I lost my work and then when I finally got really inspired, the power went out and it reverted to the autosave from the previous power outage! Augh! So sorry if this is inadequate, but just know at one point it was good.**

Hermione woke up to a face full of sunlight and a tapping at the window. She was disoriented for a moment, and tried to move, but the arms wrapped around her waist pulled her back. She looked down and remembered that she'd let Draco sleep in her bed last night. Well, she hadn't let him so much as he just knocked out. She couldn't blame him after what he'd been through, though.

She held a hand up to the owl to get him to wait, and whether he saw her or not, he stopped tapping and hovered there. She carefully tried to pull his arms from around her waist, not wanting to wake him. He shifted, and Hermione was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was naked.

She jumped out of the bed quickly and thankfully he didn't stir too much. She went to move towards the window and noticed she was still in her dress from last night. Now the dress was wrinkled and blood splattered. She was glad there was no mirror nearby, because she bet she looked a fright. She carefully opened the window and let the owl in. It eyed her carefully, as if trying to decide who she was.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she answered. "Is this for me?" She felt abysmally stupid talking to an owl, but it was almost like he heard her. The owl stuck out its leg and Hermione untied the letter there. She wished she had owl treats for such a polite owl, but he flew away quickly.

Hermione held her breath and looked at the letter. It had just her name on the front, and could be from either Kingsley or Bill. She flipped it over and was happy to see no wax seal. That meant it was definitely not from Kingsley.

She quickly opened the letter, but found it to be blank. She thought for a moment and then grabbed her wand from the bedside table. Pointing it at the page, she cast, "_Aparecium._" Apparently she'd done it right because the page filled with words. She scanned it quickly, finding it to be filled with information about Isis and the curse. Anxiously she read over it, but decided to not bring it up until lunch. She didn't think Draco would be so happy about her pulling Bill into this. She would just have to butter him up first

She looked back at the bed and Draco seemed so sweet sleeping there. She wanted to crawl back in with him, but frankly her clothes were disgusting and besides that, he was naked. She decided just to go take a shower instead.

xxx

Draco woke up to the smell of roses and lavender. He sat up and looked around, but he wasn't in his bedroom. He was in the guest room that Blaise used to stay in when he'd visit. Why was he in there? Then he remembered that Hermione had saved his life the night before. Having a guest at the house meant he had to chain himself up when he transformed. The other two times it had happened, he was alone, so he didn't need to chain himself up. He never thought the barbs would do serious damage. In fact, he assumed that any wounds would heal when he transformed back.

He looked down at his torso and saw the faint scars left over from healing. He knew the wounds must have been bad if even Hermione Granger of all people had left scars. He heard a noise in the bathroom and remembered that this was Hermione's room. He looked around for his clothes, but there were none to be found. Well, he wasn't about to put on his mum's clothes! Instead he pulled the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around his waist. He couldn't find his wand. Maybe he'd left it in the dungeon? He hoped he hadn't eaten it.

At that thought, his stomach growled and he knew it had to be past 8. He never got to the point where his stomach growled. He guessed it was because he'd never wanted for anything in his life, but being hungry just felt so… awful. He tied the sheet around him as well as he could and called for Arietta.

She appeared and immediately dropped her head. Seeing master in such a state of undress was not new to her, but she felt ashamed nonetheless. 'Yes Master?" she greeted, curtsying.

"Arietta could you bring me some clothes. Make them match if you can manage it," he said dismissively. He did like the old elf; she had practically raised him when his mother was locked away upstairs. Still, he didn't think it was good to become too familiar with the elves. It just led to mayhem.

Arietta appeared a moment later with clothing for Draco. He looked at the bathroom door, but he could still hear the shower going, so he got dressed. "Next, go to the dungeons and find my wand," he commanded as he slipped on the charcoal pants Arietta'd left for him.

She was back before he finished buttoning them, and handed him the wand politely. He did a quick _scourgify_ on his upper body and hair, since he didn't feel up to showering. Then he slipped on the heather grey Henley she'd got him and automatically unbuttoned it all the way. He just felt better if his chest was showing, he didn't know why.

Seeing that everything was finally in order, or at least a semblance thereof, he dismissed arietta and began to put on his socks and shoes. As he was slipping on the second shoe, he noticed a letter on the windowsill. He thought for a moment about reading it, but he knew that Hermione was one of those girls who had a compulsion about privacy. He wouldn't win any points with her by reading it, and after last night's transformation he didn't want to let her out of arm's length for a while.

Hermione came out of the bathroom with towel around her body and another on her head. She stopped in the doorway little awkwardly and said, "Oh, you're up."

"Don't be so happy to see me, Granger," he joked.

"Back to last names are we Malfoy?" she asked, trying to mask her embarrassment.

"No, I'm sorry, I was joking. Besides, I owe you my life," he said humbly.

"Well…" she said looking for the right thing to say. "As much as I enjoyed sharing a bed with you last night, I need to get dressed before I spontaneously combust from blushing."

He smirked and walked to the door. "See you at breakfast?"

"I'll be down in a minute." She watched him go, and when the door shut she flopped down onto the bed. She didn't know how to act around him anymore. She had set these rules about not touching to keep things friendly, but now she knew he needed her contact to keep from transforming. It wasn't that she didn't want to cuddle and kiss and be cute; it was just so different than the way things had been growing up. She wasn't even sure how she felt about him.

Sure, he was gorgeous and he had this way of making her happy even when he was teasing her. But at the same time, she had been sent to investigate him. Shouldn't she be more wary? On the one hand she hadn't found any evidence of him being involved with the Death Eaters and he of course had convinced her he wasn't really involved, but on the other hand, what solid proof did she have?

She decided to shut the book on her feelings for now and focus on the curse. She got up and quickly dressed in a pale yellow frock that had pockets in front. She had to admit, Narcissa Malfoy was fashionable until the day she died.

Hermione started to leave, but at the last minute decided to bring the letter and the curse book. She stuck them both in one pocket and slid her wand into the other. The end of her wand stuck out oddly and she examined the wood for a moment sentimentally. She had been so sad to lose her old wand, but when she went back to Ollivander's, luck would have it that her wand had a twin. The vine design on the outside was slightly different, but the Dragon heartstring was from the same beast, so she could be comforted by that fact at least.

Hermione hurried down towards the smell of breakfast cooking, but when she past the porthole window in the kitchen door, she was shocked. The elves were in a state of chaos, and she was pretty sure at least three of them were crying into their tea towels.

She stormed into the dining room to find out exactly what was going on. "Why are there elves crying in the kitchen?" Hermione asked angrily.

Draco looked up, amused, and said, "The house elves are upset because the food wasn't the optimal temperature when I got here. So basically they're mad that I was late for breakfast and they think I'm mad because they didn't foresee my tardiness. Absolutely nutters." He shook his head. "And don't even try to convince them otherwise. It just makes them cry harder."

Hermione smiled slightly and sat down at the seat near Draco's. She really didn't have anything else to say on the matter because she knew she and Draco Malfoy would never see eye to eye about house elves. A slightly uncomfortable silence fell over the two as they ate.

Draco, trying desperately to making conversation said, "So did I see that you got some mail today?" Little did he know he'd picked the very subject she didn't want to talk about.

Hermione sighed for a moment, then pulled out the letter and the curse book and put them between the two on the table. "I didn't really want to get into this until later today, but I suppose you should know." She took a deep breath and tried to find the words she needed.

"You're leaving?" he asked quietly. Hermione looked up at him in shock at not only what he said but the brokenness in his voice. He wouldn't look at her, so she grabbed his hand.

"No, it's about the curse," she said. "I told you I wouldn't leave you, and I promised I would figure it out. But I couldn't find much about Isis or Wiccan spellwork in your library."

"Wicca is normally practiced by muggles, so of course I don't have anything on it," Draco said.

"Well it is now, but back when this curse was created, a lot of witches and wizards practiced Wicca. They were able to hide behind it as a religion, and until the witch trials started in America, no one mistook Wicca for witchcraft," Hermione explained.

"So where can we research it?" he asked, perking up a little as he seemed to realize she really was staying.

"Well that's the thing. I sent a copy of the curse book to a curse breaker I know," Hermione admitted. Draco's eyes flashed to hers, but the emotion there was inscrutable. "Don't be mad; I redacted everything involving your name or your family whatsoever. This letter is from him with what he learned."

"Anything useful?" he asked, running his thumb over the top of her hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I skimmed it, but I'm sure it's helpful. After breakfast, why don't we find somewhere quiet and I'll explain what I know from the book, and we can go over B- the letter."

Draco didn't seem to notice she'd almost slipped up and said his name. He just stared at their hands. "You don't know how good this feels, just having you close to me. It's like this therapeutic calm. I've never felt it before, not even on the serum. That bloody potion just suppressed every emotion. I hated it. It felt like I wasn't myself in the slightest."

Hermione smiled and held his hand between both of hers. "Don't worry; I won't be taking that feeling away from you if I can help it."

He smiled and slipped his hand from hers. Eating a piece of bacon, he said, "Why don't we finish eating and we can go to my study or the library."

Hermione smiled and skewered a piece of pineapple with her fork. "That would be nice," she said, with the overwhelming feeling that in their world, this was practically a date.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: I just want to give a shout out to my faithful reviewers!**

**Thanks: BrightestWitchOfHerAge16, NatalieLea, Music_Loving_Bookworm, Ceralyn, , zebrababii72, and of course CoyDog22. I'm sure I'm missing someone, but these reviewers have made my day with every note they leave! I love hearing all of your responses and reactions.**

**Just a reminder: I don't own anything.**

After breakfast, Hermione and Draco decided to go to the library to discuss the curse. Hermione thought it would be better because of the book proximity, and Draco just didn't want to be back in his study any time soon after the night before. Hermione pulled the chaise lounge over next to a black armchair by the fire. She eyed it curiously. Draco seemed to have an affinity for black armchairs. She couldn't say it was the worst choice since it went with everything, but honestly the man had one in practically every room of the house!

Once she had moved the furniture, she sat cross legged on the chaise and laid out the curse book, Bill's letter and her notes. Draco took the armchair next to her and watched as she got everything situation. He smiled fondly as a curly lock of hair fell in her face and she pushed it back quickly, only to have it fall again. He reached out and tucked it behind her ear with finality.

Hermione looked up as his tentative fingers touched her ear softly. She blushed at the touch, but held his gaze. They sat there for a moment, the silence between them electrified, until Hermione looked away.

Draco pulled his hand back into his lap and said, "Okay, tell me what you know."

Hermione cleared her throat and said, "Okay, this book was written by your ancestor Aneas Malfoy, however it was lost soon after that."

"How did you find it?" he asked curiously.

"I-" she blushed and continued, "I saw it in a dream." Draco snorted but Hermione went on, "Anyway, it describes some more of your ancestors, Decimus Malfoy and his 5 sons. They came to Florence Italy and had a reputation for torturing muggleborns and half bloods. Well it was almost Halloween, so they rounded up everyone they thought was of impure blood and locked them in the basement of the castle they were staying in. They tortured and killed most of them the first night, but they left some for the next night which was Halloween. Apparently one of the witches they tortured was a descendent of Isis, and she was pregnant at the time. They tortured her, murdered her and… defiled her corpse."

"Defiled?" he asked warily.

"The worst of the brothers had sex with her dead body," Hermione said bluntly. "Now, the witch they killed, named Sephora, didn't know she was related to the goddess Isis, but she was one of the strongest witches of the time. Either by her power or by her connection to Isis, when she died the goddess was summoned. She is the one that put the curse on your family. This is it here," she added, showing him the page with the curse transcription.

She let Draco read over it before continuing. "She cast the curse on the family, and it immediately turned all but the most innocent of them into snakes. Romanus, who was spared from it at first, thought his family was a snake with many heads, so he killed it. He wasn't a very smart boy, but I suppose someone was able to extract his memory to get the original text of the curse."

Draco nodded, so she continued. "The curse keeps Malfoys from bearing females, and the transformation only affects males, so I guess that was Isis' way of making sure every single person would suffer."

"Most of the women that married into the family were killed by their mates when the transformation became permanent," Draco said softly. He looked up at Hermione and insisted, "I don't want to kill anyone."

Hermione smiled, and almost wanted to cry. Here she had been, investigating Draco as a Death Eater not even three weeks ago, and now he was almost in tears because he didn't want to kill anyone. If only the public saw this Draco, she was sure no one could hate him.

"I promise we'll figure it out before anyone gets hurt," Hermione said reassuringly. "That's what I know so far, but let's read the letter. Maybe some of this will help.

_H-_

_So good to hear from you even if it's for business purposes_

"Blah blah let's skip this part," Hermione said, eyes skimming down to the good stuff.

_First of all, you have to know this curse book is an old Wiccan tradition. In their doctrine, a curse could not only be broken with it s countercurse, but by negating the curse using the same situations. So to break this, you would probably have to be in the dungeons of a large home, preferably a castle. It needs to be at the same time, which your notes said was Halloween. Halloween, or Samhain as the Wiccans called it then, is a very important holiday for witchcraft, which I'm sure you know. It is said to be the day when the veil is thinnest between Earth and the beyond. Wiccans believed they gleaned their powers from the so-called beyond, so they would often do rituals and ceremonies on that night at midnight._

_The curse book purports that Sephora was simply protected because she was a descendent of Isis, but I believe that Sephora may have summoned her. She was very strong, but it takes a lot of power to summon a goddess or any celestial being. I would think that Sephora probably made a connection with the family's magic through the binding spell they were holding her with. That would explain how she manage to call Isis, and how Isis was able to connect to them so completely._

_As far as I could tell, the family spoke English, so that's why the curse Isis cast was in English. Diving beings tend to use the tongue they find they'll best be understood in. The one thing I'm coming up with that might have gotten lost in translation is the word sacrifice. On the surface the word may mean death, but I can't fathom that a curse based on killing muggleborns would require the killing of one to break it. In ancient Egyptian the word for sacrifice is also the word for gift, which makes sense considering the sacrifices they made to the gods and goddesses they worshipped. I'm just not sure how it fits in this situation._

_Some other info I found out about Isis:_

_She's the goddess of fertility_

_She is one of the goddesses that created magic among mortals_

_Her symbol was the red rose. She brought it to Egypt though they had never seen such a flower before. Now the rose can be found in the tombs inside the pyramids._

_I'm afraid without knowing more about the family, that's all the info I can give. All I can say is that if the apparent translation of the curse is that a muggleborn should be sacrificed, then you better steer clear. I don't know what you're getting yourself involved in, but be safe._

_-B_

Hermione had been taking notes the whole time, so when they finished the letter, she recapped, "Okay so on Halloween at midnight we have to… do something that involves a muggleborn gift?" Hermione's sentence went up at the end, like a question. She was thoroughly confused.

Draco seemed to be pondering something. "It says that as long as the Malfoy blood thrives, the curse will be there. So either that means I have to die, or I have to change the family bloodline." He trailed off, as if trying to put some pieces together in an infinite puzzle. Then suddenly, he perked up. "I have to break the pureblood family line."

Hermione stared at him, so he went on. "If my child or children aren't pureblooded, they won't have the curse. Isis must have been playing on the prejudices of my family, knowing they would rather suffer painful deaths than ruin the pure bloodline. I don't know what Halloween has to do with it though."

"I think I get it," Hermione supplied. "You have to impregnate a muggleborn or half blood at midnight on Halloween."

"That's practically impossible," Draco said. "How could you have that kind of timing?"

"I think it's more the act of coitus that matters, more so than the moment of conception," Hermione said, blushing. She had just realized what their revelation meant for her.

Draco seemed to catch her line of thought, so he grabbed her hands. "If you don't want to, you don't have to do it. I would never hold it against you. Not after you spent so much time helping me figure it out."

Hermione just stayed quiet for a moment and then said softly, "I need to be alone." She left the library before Draco could have the forethought to stop her. She knew he couldn't stay away for long, because he would get upset and without contact he might get so upset that he transformed. But still, she wanted some time alone to think. This was all just too much for her to handle right now.

xxx

Draco sat in the library for a few hours, just staring at the fire and running his hands through his hair. He realized he had completely missed lunch, but he frankly couldn't bring himself to care. The pain in his abdomen just made him feel more alive this time. He was thriving on that ache to convince him that he was really there. He wasn't sure how he felt about Hermione, but he knew it was strong. Actually, it was probably the strongest he'd ever felt for a person, aside from his Mother.

It was like she was magnetic to him. He'd felt so drawn to her since that night she'd appeared at the ball. That was the real reason he had approached her. Sure, when he later found out she was an imposter, he had been angry, but he still had an uncanny connection to her.

He guessed that was why he kissed her so quickly. It just felt right, maybe necessary in a way. Maybe it was a side effect of the curse, but he was head over heels for this girl. Why did it have to be this girl? He had been so terrible to her his entire life. Why couldn't it be another girl who didn't know who he was or of what he was capable.

Instead it had to be this girl, this woman who had every reason to hate him. This woman who had changed so drastically since school, and yet somehow was just the same fiery, amazing bookworm. For once he didn't think of her bookishness as a flaw. Hell it may just save his life. On the one hand, he knew he could get any muggleborn to bear his child, but at the same time he couldn't imagine making love with anyone but Hermione. The thought of being with her in such an intimate and complete way made him burn inside.

He realized at that moment that he couldn't stay away from her any longer. He needed to go to her. He might even love her. But that didn't bode well for Draco, because he wasn't just a man. He was a monster, and when he transformed he was a beast. He thought to himself woefully, _And who could ever learn to love a beast?_


	22. Chapter 22

Hermione was curled up in her bed when Draco knocked on the door. She had been so close to sleep, or at least she'd been saying that for hours now. She couldn't convince her mind to shut off, but all her body wanted was to slip away into unconsciousness.

He knocked again, a little louder this time. "Go away," Hermione growled, not moving.

"Hermione, let me in," Draco said just loud enough for her to hear.

She didn't have any fight in her at the moment so she waved her wand at the door and it opened. He walked in the room and saw her curled up on top of her blankets looking terribly pathetic and sad. His heart panged when he met her eyes. They looked haunted, or maybe just tired. Either way, it pained him to see her like this, and it was a pain he hadn't experienced before. Maybe it was because he hadn't really allowed himself to get close to a woman before, but it physically hurt him to see her so sad.

He didn't really know what to do, so he kind of hovered in the area at the foot of the bed. His body was screaming at him to crawl in bed behind her and hold her until she didn't feel any more pain, but his mind knew she would never allow that. She obviously didn't feel the same way about him if she was so appalled at the thought of having sex with him.

No, he knew she wouldn't let him touch her, so he would just stand there and watch over her. Being close to her was drug enough. It would have been bliss to touch her, even through the fabric of her dress. With her legs tucked under the skirt of his mother's yellow dress, she looked like a frightened little girl. The juxtaposition of his desire for her and her childlike appearance made him consider if he had children with her. If they broke the curse, could she bear him a daughter? All any Malfoy ever cared about was producing a male heir to continue the line, but he thought he would be happy with a little frizzy haired grey eyed girl running around the Manor.

He realized he was getting ahead of himself. She wouldn't let him in her bed to comfort her, how could she ever consider having his child? He dropped his head to his chest dejectedly and started to go.

'No!" cried a tiny voice behind him. Hermione had hoisted herself up to an almost sitting position. "I feel better with you here," she admitted, beckoning him with an arm.

He perched on the bed in front of her, not daring to touch her. "I'll watch over you," he vowed.

Hermione shook her head. "Hold me," she said, her voice just the shadow of a whisper.

Unwilling and unable to deny her request, he crawled into bed with her, lying with his chest against her back. He tucked his knees under her folded legs and wrapped one arm around her waist, resting the other above her head on the pillow.

She visibly relaxed at his touch, and for the first time in hours, Hermione felt at peace. Having him there with her just felt right. She fell asleep quickly, and he went soon after. Her sleep was thankfully dreamless, but his was haunted by a little girl with frizzy brown hair and grey eyes.

xxx

When they woke up, it was the middle of the night. Hermione rolled over, finally rested and found herself face to face with a pair of silvery grey eyes.

"Were you watching me sleep?" she asked hesitantly. He nodded and the edges of his lips turned up slightly. "How long?" she asked.

"Not long," he replied, stroking her hair gently away from her face. "You are beautiful when you sleep," he commented.

"I watched you sleep this morning," she admitted. "You're not too bad when you sleep either." A joking smile lit up her face, and Draco couldn't keep himself away any longer. He brought his lips to meet hers, and the same electric feeling came over them as when they first kissed. She kissed back, meeting his fervor and exceeding it. His tongue grazed over her lips, and they immediately parted, giving him permission.

They continued in this manner for a while, until Hermione realized she'd ended up straddling Draco, her skirt pooling over his body. She sat up and ran her hands over his clothed chest. For some reason she really wanted to touch his skin, but she didn't want him to take it as a sign that she was ready to sleep with him. Instead she collapsed onto his chest, resting her head there and listening to his heart.

Draco was floating on cloud nine. He literally felt better than he had probably in his entire life. If this one girl could do this much for his mood and physical well-being, how could he ever let her out of his sight? He stroked her hair gently enjoying the silence.

The silence was soon broken by Draco's growling stomach. Hermione sat up quickly, staring at him, and then burst out laughing.

"Are you hungry?" she asked between laughs.

Draco quirked his head to the side and said, "I guess so. But right now I don't care if I ever eat again," he said, wrapping his arms around her quickly. He flipped her over so she was on her back and began kissing her passionately. Things were just getting heated when his stomach growled again and she burst out laughing once again. Draco sat up, a little disconcerted at having a girl laugh into his mouth.

"That's it," Hermione said, slapping her arm down on the bed. "I'm making you a snack, young man." She sat up and Draco let her out of bed with only a little pouting.

"Come on," she said, holding out her hand to him. "I'm not creeping around this house at Merlin knows what hour on my own. He smiled and to her hand and together they went to the kitchen.

Hermione ended up making them bacon and eggs, since she didn't feel up to anything more complicated. They sat at the kitchen counter and ate quietly, just enjoying each others' company.

"I told you so," Hermione said suddenly.

"What?"

"I told you I'd get you to branch out from the dining room," she explained with a mischievous grin.

"Yeah, well I guess you've changed a lot about me," he said seriously.

The joking smile fell from Hermione's face and was replaced by a wary one. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"Just that I've honestly never felt like this about anyone else; not since my Mother passed. No one has ever cared this much to get involved in my life either. And then earlier when you looked so sad, it was almost like your emotional pain caused me physical pain. I just wanted to take away whatever was hurting you, but at the same time I knew it was me."

Hermione shook her head, but didn't speak.

"No to what?" Draco asked.

"No you weren't hurting me. I was just confused. I don't know how to feel about you. I mean, this version of you, this Draco is sweet and kind and makes me feel protected. But there's another Draco in my mind. He's the one that made my life a living hell; he's the one who's evil and scary, and I can't trust him. And part of me doesn't want to trust you. But the rational part of me knows that you're not what you've been said to be, and that you aren't your father. I'm just having trouble coming to terms with it."

"I know you're having trouble, and I'm sure I'll never understand your inner struggle. But you should know there was a time when I had a similar struggle. I had to choose between doing what I'd always done and doing what was right. As it is, I've gotten myself into kind of a no-man's land. I keep up appearances, but I don't get involved in the actual politics and dirty work. Does that make me innocent though? Just because I'm not holding the wand doesn't mean I'm not responsible for some of the evil done by those men."

Draco looked down for a moment, thinking of the evils he had seen. Then he continued, "But I don't want to be that man anymore. I don't want to be the silent partner or the angel investor. All I want is in this room. I just want to be with you, Hermione. I will do anything to prove to you that I am a changed man. You have turned my life around and you don't even know it."

"All I've done is almost make you kill me and gave you some scars on your chest," Hermione said regretfully.

"No, Hermione. Don't think like that. This is not your fault," he said, pressing a hand to where a scar was hidden under his shirt. "This is because I'm a monster. I've always been a monster. But for the first time in my life, you make me feel like I could be more than what the curse demands me to be. I feel like I can be your prince charming instead of the beast you have to slay."

Hermione smiled and grabbed his hand. "If you need a damsel in distress for your fairy tale fantasy, I'll gladly volunteer," she said. She took their empty plates to the sink and yawned. "Somehow I'm still tired."

Draco laughed and grabbed her by the waist. Flipping her over his shoulder he ran upstairs and didn't stop until he threw her in the guest room bed. "Then go to sleep," he said, kissing her on the nose.

Hermione cooed at the adorable kiss, and said, "Stay with me?"

Draco agreed and crawled under the blankets with her. They slept through the rest of the night and woke intertwined like vines the next morning.


	23. Chapter 23

The next morning was Monday, which meant they only had five days until the big Halloween party. It also meant that Hermione had 5 days to decide whether she would give herself to Draco to end the curse. It also meant that there was much party planning to be done, which meant the Manor would be very busy.

Hermione watched Draco leave that morning, and was almost tempted to go back to sleep when arietta appeared.

"Miss must get dressed now!" she squeaked.

"Miss must have a few more minutes of sleep now," Hermione replied groggily. Arietta snapped her fingers and Hermione felt all the sleepiness leave her. She was suddenly wide awake and ready for the day. "What did you do?" she asked warily.

"Nothing," Arietta lied. Hermione knew she had done something but couldn't understand how a house elf had managed to lie to her face. She guessed it was because she had no dominion over the house or its staff.

Now forcibly awake and chipper, she quickly dressed in a white sundress and sandals. The sun outside was far too bright for her not to enjoy the gardens. She actually thought if Draco was busy he might not stop her for once. She felt that the dress was tight around her torso. _Ugh_, she thought. _I need to work out._ When she came to the manor she was a conditioned, fit witch who could take on any battle. Now after three weeks of sitting around and eating overly expensive food, she just felt fat.

She straightened up her posture and tried not to focus on it. Instead, she just went down to breakfast.

There was activity everywhere Hermione looked. Some rooms were being painted (well I guess you could say the walls were being charmed different colors to be exact) and some were full of items Hermione could only guess were samples for Draco to choose from for the party.

She sat down at her usual place in the dining room, but Draco did not look up at her. He seemed stressed out, so she touched his hand cautiously. He visibly relaxed and even smiled in her direction.

'Sorry," he muttered. "This is just a big party for my company. It's kind of an employee appreciation deal," he explained.

"I'm glad you invited me then," she replied. "I'd like to see how you treat your employees."

Draco started to reply, but a woman was at his elbow with a list. "We've got China selections in the parlor, incidentals in the living room and silver in the library. After you finish in here, we'll have food samples."

"Can the food wait til noon?" Draco asked. "My house elves had some trauma yesterday. They could use the time off."

The woman seemed floored by this, but agreed. "Oh, and Felicia is here,' she added before leaving.

"That was sweet," Hermione said.

"What?" Draco asked.

"The way you made the food samples your lunch to give the elves time off," she replied.

"Have you noticed there's honey in the maple syrup jar and the pancakes have bits of sausage in them instead of blueberries?" he asked pointedly.

"Oh," Hermione said, noticing a couple other oddities. "I thought sausage in the pancakes was rather genius," she said, grabbing another one for herself.

Draco chuckled and said, "By the way that was Danielle, my assistant."

"I could tell from the six inch stilettos," Hermione commented wryly.

"She's not that bad," Draco said. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if he'd had any relationship with his assistant. She was tall (well she might have been tall; it was hard to tell with the shoes), blonde and very leggy. She obviously didn't know what office appropriate clothing was though, as the slit in her pencil skirt was almost indecent even without bending down. Hermione tried to push the thought out of her mind as she realized Draco was talking to her.

"…name's Felicia, and she's very nice, so don't hurt her feelings, okay?" Draco was saying. Hermione nodded thought she had no idea what he was on about. "She'll meet you after breakfast in the formal living room. It's the one just off the front hall," he explained, answering her unasked question.

Hermione didn't know why she was meeting Felicia, but she didn't want to embarrass herself and Draco by letting him know she wasn't listening. Instead she finished her breakfast, but not without noticing the salt in the sugar bowl.

When she arrived at the formal living room, she tried to figure out what was going on from the voices inside, but she couldn't hear much. She decided to use her Gryffindor bravery and pushed open the swinging door. All over every surface of the room were the most beautiful dresses Hermione had ever seen.

There were literally every color and fabric you could imagine, but they were all quite obviously the best money could buy. Hermione looked up and saw two people she had never met. One was an older woman with brassy blonde hair piled on top of her head. It was secured with a chopstick in what Hermione assumed was an attempt to look youthful, but they crow's feet on her face gave her age away. The other was a younger man of about 25 who was well dressed, but obviously homosexual.

Hermione almost laughed as she saw the contradictions between them, but somehow they seemed to fit each other nicely as well.

The woman gave Hermione a once over before saying, "I'm Felicia O'Donnell, and this is my assistant Frederick. He'll be taking your measurements, so strip down." Her voice was so commanding and it grated on her nerves.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, getting a little upset.

"Miss, I don't know who you are but Mr. Malfoy has asked us to dress you properly for the event, so please comply before I am forced to make you," Felicia said, glaring at Hermione over her fashionable glasses.

Hermione numbly slipped her dress over her head, aware once again that she only had her fancy under things from the original party. Maybe Felicia could get her some? She wasn't about to ask her.

Frederick was immediately next to her, measuring and grunting the numbers to a house elf that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Hermione considered that it might have been there the whole time, but she was too embarrassed at that moment to notice.

Once Frederick had finished measuring her, the house elf gave the numbers to Felicia who looked them over once and then eyed her carefully. "At least you have good taste in undergarments," she commented with a smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Under regular circumstances she would never be caught dead in these, especially not for days on end. The corseted top was terribly uncomfortable and the panties could use a little more coverage in her opinion.

Then began the most humiliating and taxing two hours of her life. She seriously would have taken on Bellatrix Lestrange before submitting herself to this kind of torture again. She was poked and prodded and shoved into dresses that were then laced up or wrapped around her so tightly she could barely breathe. Each one was more extravagant than the last.

By the end of the stack of dresses, she was exhausted, but there were still two heaps to go. When they slipped a particularly ugly gown with sequins over her head, she said, "Can I at least have a say in this?" They stared at her blankly. "I know what looks good on my body type and you obviously don't. At least let me pick the next dress I try on, okay?"

Felicia looked her over once again shrewdly, but by this point Hermione was over the embarrassment of being in her knickers in front of strangers. At this point it almost felt liberating. Finally Felicia nodded and waved at the two piles of dresses.

Hermione took some time to look through the dresses, enjoying the feel of such fine fabrics against her skin. It was like a princess fantasy in here and they had been making it into a nightmare. Finally she spotted a bright golden yellow at the bottom of one pile. She carefully pulled it out and saw a beautifully full skirted gown the color of melted gold or maybe the center of a flame. It was made of satin and some other floaty material, but it didn't seem too heavy.

"That will need a petticoat," Felicia said pointedly, as if advising her against it. Hermione however had no issues with extra layers, so she said, "Fine, get one. I'm trying this on."

A few minutes later they had her situated in the dress. IT was absolutely gorgeous and had to be her favorite that day so far. It was off the shoulder with a tight corseted bodice, but everything else about it was floaty and a little voluminous. The skirt had tons of places where it had been tucked up, giving a rippling quality. It dusted the floor, but was not so heavy as to keep her from dancing. The petticoat moved freely under the skirts, so she knew it would be no problem getting close despite the width of the dress.

All in all she liked it, and Felicia's tightly pressed lips told her that she unwillingly approved. "You'll need a better bra," Felicia commented. "Something with some oomph. I'll leave a list of necessities with Mr. Malfoy's private shopper and it will be taken care of. You were right about the shape," she admitted through gritted teeth, "But won't you at least let me change the color? Gold clashes with Mr. Malfoy's hair, and as his date you're expected to coordinate."

Hermione considered this, but the thrill in her stomach at being referenced as Draco's date swayed her. "Okay, let's see some options," she agreed.

Felicia moved the large mirror in front of Hermione and began adjusting the hue of the dress with her wand.

First she made it silver, but Hermione said, "Too bland."

White was "too bridal."

Black was "too dark."

Purple was thrown out as Felicia said it made Hermione look like a bruise.

Felicia refused to try anything pastel.

Felicia turned it a scarlet red, and Hermione considered it, but she knew it was too Gryffindor for Draco. She shook her head.

Finally, Felicia changed it to a brilliant emerald green. To Hermione's surprise, it looked gorgeous against her slightly tanned skin tone, though it had clearly paled since she'd been there. TI also played well off her hair, and she knew for a fact that it would be a wonderful colour for Draco, having seen him in it practically every day at Hogwarts.

"Against my better judgment, let's go with this," she said.

Felicia nodded and actually cracked a little smile. "And now we choose jewelry," she said, dragging Hermione to a chest of drawers. This afternoon would simply not end.

She finally chose a simple tiered diamond necklace which had matching earrings. For her hair she found a matching silver set of combs with diamond and emerald accents. She assured Felicia that Mr. Malfoy would not be buying these for her, and that they were to be considered a loan.

Felicia laughed shortly and gave a knowing look, then packed up everything else with a wave of her wand. Hermione changed back into her white sundress and laid the jewelry nicely on top of the dress.

"I will alert Mr. Malfoy of the colour palette at his fitting tomorrow," Felicia said in lieu of goodbye.

Hermione left the room, knowing she'd been dismissed. That woman just made her so angry, but at least she had some semblance of taste. She probably would have had trouble finding an 'appropriate' gown for the party. Of course, if she was going to be on Draco Malfoy's arm, she was sure nothing would be good enough.

Scowling she went into the dining room. It was almost lunchtime and there were a few people who she assumed were the caterer's assistants running around making sure everything was ready for the tasting. They had house elves delivering various foods on silver platters to the table. It all was just a little too rich for her tastes, but she backed against the wall and tried to stay out of the way.

A few minutes later, Draco swept into the room with his assistant close on his heels. He seemed calm and collected, but Hermione saw a tell-tale wrinkle on his forehead that she knew to be a sign of growing annoyance. It made her giggle quietly, but of course he heard her.

His head snapped in her direction, but his expression softened almost immediately. He strode over to her and put her arm in his. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Come one Hermione, as my date to the party that makes you practically the lady of the house. Don't make me taste all this delicious food alone."

She blushed a little and nodded. What he said disturbed her a little. She hadn't tried to quantify what their relationship was beyond a little mutual attraction, but it seemed he saw things differently. She would have to ask him about it later. _Maybe in bed tonight,_ she thought, and her subconscious came up with all these images that made her squirm.

He noticed her squirm and looked down to see a tell-tale blush on her cheeks. He didn't comment but just smirked to himself as he waited for the catering team to be ready. He looked at his watch; it was 12:01. That made them late in his book. He threw a look to Danielle and she nodded.

Danielle cleared her throat loudly and said, "Is everything ready? Mr. Malfoy's time is very valuable." One of the caterer's assistants looked like she was going to faint and the man just looked very guilty.

"I apologize, Monsieur Malfoy," a large man said as he entered. "I'm afraid that there was a slight delay, but there will be no further problems." He was clearly French but seemed to control his accent quite well. Hermione supposed that dealing with powerful people had forced him to adapt.

"I appreciate your efforts, Monsieur LeFlamme. So, what have you imagined up for us this time?" he asked, referencing the overflowing table of food with a sweeping gesture.

xxx

An hour or more later, Hermione sat back in her chair heavily. She was absolutely stuffed even though she'd only had a small taste of most of the food that they'd sampled. Draco smiled at her from his seat, but it was fleeting. The catering company was cleaning up quickly with magic, when something hit Hermione.

"What are you going to do with all this food?" she asked.

The male caterer's assistant shrugged and said, "Magic it away?"

Hermione was appalled! Did they really live in such pleasurable excess that they would waste even food? "Draco, how can they just get rid of this food when there are hungry people on the streets?"

Draco lifted an eyebrow and said, "It would take so much effort and time to pack it all up." He didn't seem to understand what she was getting at.

"But it would be worth the time and effort if you donated it to a homeless shelter or a soup kitchen. I know one near Diagon Alley. I'll even help pack it all up," she offered, her eyes shining.

Draco considered the woman before him for a moment. He didn't understand what the big deal was about. It was just food. He almost told her that, but the look on her face was so innocent and giving that he just couldn't ruin it. "Okay."

"Really?" she said, surprised.

"Yes, if it's that important to you we'll have it donated. But you won't be helping pack up. They can handle it with a few spells. Just give them the address and I'll make sure the food is taken there."

Hermione felt like crying. She could tell that this was a big deal to Draco. This may even have been his first truly charitable act, even though it seemed so small. It endeared him to her. She quickly conjured up some parchment and a quill and jotted down the address. She also wrote a note.

"Here's the address," she said handing it to the female assistant who seemed more mild-mannered. "And would you give this note to Luna Lovegood? She runs the shelter most weeknights."

The girl nodded and Hermione couldn't help herself. She bent down and hugged Draco as hard as she could. "Thank you," she whispered, trying to keep the happy and gratuitous tears out of her eyes.

He pulled her away for a moment, looked into her eyes and said, "Anything for you."

**A/N: Awww... some gratuitous warm and fuzzies for you all. Did you catch all of the Beauty and the Beast references in this chapter?**


	24. Chapter 24

The day calmed down after all the party planners left, but Hermione wasn't fooled by the sudden calm.

"Felicia mentioned you're not getting your outfit for the party until tomorrow?" Hermione asked over tea.

"Yes, I've got the second wave of appointments tomorrow," Draco said confidently. "I didn't want to throw you for a loop doing it all in one day."

"Well it threw me for a loop when a dragon lady barked at me to strip down!" Hermione said with a laugh.

"Dragon lady?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I like that."

Hermione laughed, "That's the only way I could describe her."

"She's one that's older than she'll readily admit, but it doesn't stop her from dressing inappropriately for her age," Draco said.

"I got that vibe immediately," Hermione said. "She picked out some ugly dresses too, and painful."

"How can a dress be painful?" he laughed.

"Ask Felicia," Hermione said knowingly. "In the end I just dug through the dresses and picked one."

"I'm sure you'll look lovely. If the dress you wore to the last party is any indication of style, I'd say you'll be fine."

Hermione frowned and thought about how hard she'd fought about that damn dress. She didn't want to go into a known Death Eater event showing that much skin, but they had insisted it would help her cover. Funny, she went from being forced into a slaggy dress to wearing a dead woman's wardrobe. She really had to get home sometime soon.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Just that I haven't been to my flat in almost a month," she admitted.

"Well you don't have to worry about paying rent or anything, right?" he asked with a frown.

"No, I pay it up in advance in case I'm… called away," she admitted.

"Aren't you missed at work?" he asked, realizing she must have a job.

"Oh, you ask now, after you've kept me hostage for almost a month? Very nice, Draco," she said, scowling.

"Well you weren't trying to get out of here at first, I just figured you didn't have a job, but now that I know who you are, I can't imagine Hermione Granger wouldn't have a job," he said, trying not to get upset at her accusations.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah, because you'd know anything about my life."

Draco sighed and sat back in his chair. "I don't want to fight with you. I don't want to get upset. Haven't you noticed it's kind of terrible when I do?"

"Sorry," Hermione said quietly.

Draco hesitantly reached a hand out towards hers. She bridged the gap and held his hand. She could see his mood improve, and somehow it made her feel better too, if not in the magical way it was for him.

"Am I interrupting something?" a voice said from the doorway.

Draco's head snapped over and he dropped her hand immediately. "Blaise," he said tensely. "What brings you to my home?"

"Just visiting an old friend, of course," the man responded. He walked casually across the room toward them, and Hermione tried to place him. He was a tall, attractive man with olive skin and raven hair. If she wasn't mistaken, he was Italian. The name Blaise seemed familiar. She knew they'd went to school with a Blaise, so this had to be him.

"Miss Torres, this is Blaise Zabini," Draco said tersely. Hermione was shocked at his decision to use her false name, but covered it up, taking Blaise's hand smoothly.

"Bella Torres," she said politely. "Nice to meet you Mr. Zabini."

"The pleasure is all mine," the man said, and Hermione was immediately disgusted. He absolutely oozed charm out of every pore. He was completely the opposite of Draco. Draco was naturally charming and interesting. Blaise had some good looks, but she could tell he spent way too much time on them and she could just feel from his lecherous gaze that to him women were simply conquests.

Draco seemed angry at Blaise's lingering kiss on her hand, but he dropped his face into a neutral expression. "Would you like to speak in my study?" Draco offered, as if only to get him away from Hermione.

"Certainly," Blaise responded. "I would hate to impose on your houseguest."

The men left and Hermione sat there, reeling. Was Blaise involved in Draco's company? She was almost sure he must be. She hoped he wouldn't be at the party. She stood and went to leave the room. The house elves cleared up their tea things before she had even left. She started to go up to her room, but thought better of it. Zabini wasn't on the list of suspected Death Eaters, but he very well could be one. She decided to sneak past the study and see if she could hear anything.

Creeping down the hall to the study, the portraits that could still speak were hissing mean things at her.

"No one likes a sneak," one said.

When she got to the door, another said, "Oh, eavesdropping now? Not enough to get involved in family business I see."

She hastily threw a nonverbal silencing spell at the hall and it thankfully became quiet once more. She leaned up to the door but couldn't hear more than a rumble of voices. She decided it wouldn't do to be caught, so she cast a disillusionment charm on herself, and then applied a supersensory spell as well.

The spell enhanced her hearing, but it also enhanced her other senses, and seeing at such a magnified level made Hermione nauseous, as always. She tried to focus by closing her eyes. She could just make out most of what they were saying.

"-showing up at my house, when you know you're not welcome!"

"I thought we were closer than that. Besides I heard from the caterer you have a lady friend, and since you haven't had more than a quick shag in a while, I thought I'd investigate."

"Back off. She's not like the others."

"Yeah, well that just means you're not good enough for her."

"Take that back!" This was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of a wand being drawn.

"Hey mate, I'm just trying to look out for you. I think you know she belongs with someone who has a capacity to love."

"You don't know anything about me! You've been obsessed with me since Hogwarts and I gave you a spot in my company thinking it'd put you in your bloody place!"

"You think you're somehow superior to me Malfoy?"

"I bloody well know it! And how dare you bring my emotions into this. You don't know the first thing about me Zabini, and you never will!"

"Then maybe I'll just learn some things about your girlfriend instead." The tone was mocking, but it still gave Hermione an unwelcome shiver of fear. There was a rustle of clothing and a bang against the wall Hermione leaned against. She covered her mouth to keep from yelping.

"If you touch her I will fucking kill you, got it?"

Blaise must have nodded or at least given up, because Hermione heard his feet hit the ground again roughly.

"Now get the fuck out of my Manor."

"Just don't forget, you're no longer in the inner circle, so you don't know which of us are. You best watch your back before you get mistaken for a blood traitor."

"Out!"

Hermione hurried away and didn't take off the disillusionment charm until she got to the stairwell. The movement in combination with the supersensory spell was almost too much, so she sat on the stairs and removed it. Holding her head in her hands, she tried to get the room to stop spinning.

"Bella!" Hermione snapped her head up to see Blaise staring down at her. She happily noticed his collar was rumpled from where Draco threatened him.

"Can I help you?" she asked wearily. He sat next to her, and she tried to scowl to show he wasn't welcome, but he wasn't looking at her.

"You know," he said, creeping a hand onto her thigh. "If you ever want a real man in your life, I'm always available, day or night." Hermione tried to lean away, but he slid his hand further up her thigh, moving the yellow fabric with it and revealing more leg than she cared to show a perfect stranger.

"Besides," he continued, "I'm far more powerful than Draco is."

She scoffed and said, "Somehow I doubt that."

"Oh no, it's all about which circles you run in. Let's just say I run in the right ones, and he's no longer welcome." Blaise looked down at her bare leg lasciviously.

Hermione went to tell him off, but realized what he was insinuating and decided to get more information. "I'll bet you're quite well known in these… inner circles, yeah?" Hermione said, trying to be seductive.

"Baby, you wouldn't know the power I have," he replied. Hermione was disgusted as he tried to kiss her, and the disgust must have shown on his face, because when Draco ran up and started beating Blaise senseless, he didn't suspect that Hermione had been flirting. She tried to tell herself it wasn't flirting, it was just reconnaissance, but she still felt guilty.

She watched as Draco wrestled Blaise to the ground and punched him repeatedly until Blaise's face was covered in blood. It was a nasty sight, but Blaise didn't seem to be fighting back. Maybe the Malfoy name still held some weight with him?

Hermione figured Draco had done enough damage, so she gently pulled him back. When she looked at his eyes, the pupils had begun to change shape, so she kissed him, desperate to keep him from transforming. There was a loud crack, and when Hermione pulled back from the kiss, Blaise had apparated away.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked, tucking a hair behind her ear.

"I'm fine, he's just another scumbag," Hermione said, inwardly cursing herself for getting that man beaten, no matter how terrible he seemed. Hermione took his hand, and he hissed in pain. His knuckles were covered in blood and a little swollen. It looked like there would be bruising.

"Sit down," Hermione said, pushing him onto the stairs. "Let me heal you."

Draco sat, but shook his head. "This is why I have Arietta, you don't have to heal me. She's very competent for a house elf."

Hermione was surprised. A house elf that was the primary healer for a household? It didn't really make sense, unless… "She would take care of you when you were a kid wouldn't she?"

Draco nodded. "When I was home from school, my dad took his anger out on me. It turned out to be a good way for him to calm down because I never saw him transform." He shrugged. "It was just the way it was. She was my personal house elf then, and that's why I let her run the household now."

Hermione smiled, and said, "Okay, let her patch you up."

Arietta appeared unbidden, as if she knew the situation. She quickly used her elf magic to heal Draco and Hermione used _tergeo_ to clean up the blood on the floor. Hermione shot a quick smile at the elf and watched Draco flex his hands. "Good as new," he said.

The clock in the hall chimed, and Hermione said, "I guess it's time for dinner."

Draco nodded and linked their arms before going to the dining room.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my 100****th**** reviewer: Poliahu2496!**

**And thanks for all the reviews lately; I hope I answered some of your questions in this chapter! You're just getting ahead of me with all this curiosity! But hey, who can complain about a captive and engaged audience?**

The week went by quickly with all the party planning and preparations. Draco had to spend a large chunk of time at the office on Thursday, and Hermione went to the library to relax. She grabbed a hefty text on nonverbal and wandless magic. It looked a little dark, but it would take her mind of the past few days. After Draco had beaten Blaise up, Hermione had been very wary in his presence. She wasn't scared of him per say, but she was worried about the fact that he immediately jumped to beat a colleague bloody without even considering it might be her fault.

Still, Blaise was a smarmy git and she kind of enjoyed seeing him get pummeled by Draco. She just didn't like how angry Draco got so quickly. It was like everything was just on a different level with him. It skipped straight to the boiling point.

Hermione closed the book with a loud snap. She couldn't focus on her reading because she was too busy fretting over Draco Malfoy's emotions. She thought back and before this month, that idea would have been completely ridiculous to her. And yet here she was in his library, unable to read his stupid books because she was worried about his stupid feelings. Honestly, who had she become?

Hermione rolled her eyes at her own annoying internal monologue and sighed. There was no on there to keep her company. It was times like these that she wished she could just go. But she had promised Draco she'd stay until the party, and even if she found a way out, if he came home and she was gone, he would be livid.

But why did she really care what he thought? He had kept her hostage in his house, in a room that drove his grandmother made, no less! She still wanted to know what the allure of that room was, and why he had put her there. She was considering how to bring these subjects off without setting off the powder keg that was Draco, when a voice surprised her.

"So," Narcissa Malfoy's ghost said. "What do you think you're doing with my son?"

"Wha- I, nothing," Hermione said unconvincingly.

The ghost scoffed, "I've seen you in bed with him. It's odd because I thought you were his little play thing not the other way around."

"What?" Hermione asked, confused by the allegory.

"Don't think I don't see you digging your claws into my son! I know you think you have him wrapped around your finger, but don't forget why you're here at all. Don't forget what he's done to you. He may seem like a lovesick little puppy, but if I know my son, he'll lock you back up in that tower where you belong you filthy little harlot." Narcissa's anger was apparent, and Hermione began to realize the reason she had imprinted – to protect her son.

Hermione was too upset over the words to ask about their intentions, so she focused on what Narcissa was saying. "What are you trying to tell me about the tower? I know it hurt you, but that's because Lucius was so angry. I didn't even have a single nightmare up there. What's the problem?"

"It doesn't just give you nightmares, though that's a side effect. It was built into the Manor by the original architect as a counteragent to the curse. Back then there were no serums or silly little mudbloods to alleviate the constant internal fury that led to the transformations. So he built a chamber, removed from the body of the house that would absorb all the anger of the Master. Without a person to absorb the pure magical energy of the anger caused by the curse, the pain and anger redoubles upon the Master of the house."

"So he put me up there as an insurance policy?" Hermione asked.

"He put you up there because that's what he does with women. He lures them to his house, and those gold digging sluts lap it up. He gives them a nice tower bedroom and they feel like a princess and they don't worry about why he doesn't sleep in the bed with them or why they have such nightmares. The more weak-minded ones flee after the first night, but some stragglers hang on until they end up in St. Mungo's. Just know that this has been his pattern and you will be no different." Narcissa looked so angry she could spit, but a lady doesn't act on such rude impulses.

"No, that's not true," Hermione said. "He's different now. He cares about me and we do share a bed and he even moved me down to the guest bedroom."

"If he cares about you, why didn't he tell anyone your real name?" Narcissa snapped back.

"To… protect me?" Hermione said, her nervous voice turning it into a question.

"Ha!" Narcissa's face turned to one of cruel glee. "More like to protect his good name. He wouldn't be caught dead with a mudblood like you; even one with your fame isn't half the woman he deserves."

"From what I can tell, he locks them in a tower so they can absorb his pain; doesn't sound like he's been willing to get serious about any of the women you consider worthy, Narcissa!" Hermione had snapped just a little bit at Narcissa calling her a mudblood. She had always imagined that the blood prejudice in the family was mainly perpetrated by Lucius and was thereby passed down to his son, but Hermione had never thought of Narcissa as an evil or bigoted woman.

"Well at least he knew what they were good for. I don't know why he moved you out of there. He's pretty much just sealed his fate by not having you as a buffer," Narcissa said, turning her nose up distastefully.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked warily.

"Aren't you listened you dolt? No one in the room means no one to absorb his anger, meaning it doubles over on him, and what causes his transformations? That's right, anger," Narcissa said. "Honestly, your smarts are terribly overrated.

"But it's not like that. As long as we're together, he doesn't get mad. At least he didn't," Hermione said carefully considering the past few days. "I guess he has been getting a little worse."

"If you really care for him, you'll sit in that tower like a good little girl and let him take everything out on you," Narcissa said pointedly, and then flew away.

Hermione buried her head in her hands. First of all, the reason Draco's anger had been escalating was because she wasn't in the tower room anymore. Second of all, Draco was kind of a slut, which in all honesty she expected from a billionaire. Third of all, she had the choice to go back up there and suffer from nightmares and possibly mental illness, or she could stay in the guest room and hope that she could subdue him. She sincerely doubted she could actually subdue him. But then, Draco must not have known about the true nature of the room if he so easily let her stop sleeping there.

_Then why did he have all his trysts stay there? _A nasty little voice in her head responded. Well, even if he did know, he had asked her to stay away, so hadn't his intentions been valiant? _Unless he just used it as a ploy to get in bed with you. _

Hermione growled in frustration. Even without being in the psycho nightmare room she was clearly having a mental break. Arguing with yourself was not a good sign of mental health. A moment later the door to the library opened and an exhausted Draco walked in. She smiled slightly out of instinct, but then it fell as she remembered he had a lot of explaining to do.

Draco strode across the room and kissed her on the cheek sweetly. "Boy, am I happy to see you," he said softly, falling back on the chaise lounge. Hermione realized she was sitting in the black armchair, and the role reversal made her giggle.

He looked back at her and gave her a strange look. "Sorry, I just realized I'm in your seat," she replied with an easy smile.

Draco waved his hand in her direction and said, "Don't worry about it. I'm beat."

"Long day at the office, _dear_?" She said with a grin.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before saying, "You have no idea."

"Guess that's part of the playboy millionaire life," she said, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

"What?" he replied, not knowing whether to be flattered or offended.

"Just had a nice chat with your mother," she said quietly.

"My- oh. The ghost," he replied shortly. He hadn't been very interested in his mother's ghost since their last fight. That imprint had seemed to gather all the worst parts about her. He didn't like it at all and it was NOT his mother.

"Yes. She told me about the ladies you've had over in the past," she trailed off, hoping he'd jump in.

"Hermione," he said turning to her, "I've put those ways behind me. Right now I'm only interested in you."

She pursed her lips, but had trouble holding the anger since he had been so sweet. "I don't want to have another fight, but I need to ask you something."

"Okay," he said cautiously.

"Why have you kept me here?"

Draco looked down at his perfectly manicured nails for a moment. He had so many ways he could answer her question, but he didn't know which one was the right answer. He didn't know her very well, but he understood her compulsion for honesty in all things. He also knew that she was a woman, so anything he said would probably offend her anyway. He tried to sort out how to make her understand.

"I'd like the truth, please," Hermione continued. "And you can start talking any time now."

"At first," Draco began carefully, as if plucking each word from his soul. "I thought you were a spy. So I was afraid of you. I sent you to the one place I knew you couldn't escape easily because the windows don't open. But then, I got to know you and I wanted you to be around. Then I found out who you were, and I knew you couldn't be here by coincidence. I wanted to turn you over to someone, anyone who would take you, but by that time I was falling in love with you." He stopped suddenly when he realized what he'd just said. He hadn't even admitted that to himself really.

Hermione blushed for a moment, and then composed herself. "I'm not one of those girls that will be swayed just because you say you love me. I just can't believe you didn't know what that room would do to me."

"I did," Draco admitted. "That's why I told you not to sleep there anymore."

"But why would you give up something that would help you not transform?" Now Hermione was just confused.

I did it because I didn't want the price to be your sanity. I did it so we could be together, like we're supposed to be," he pleaded, trying to make her understand.

"If you wanted to be with me, you would have told me the whole truth," Hermione said sadly. She didn't know why she couldn't just get over it. Everything he said was so sweet, but it was just in her nature not to trust him. She didn't know if they'd ever get past that. "Maybe you should have asked me before you went and assumed we were in a relationship. I don't even know what this is. Worse still, I don't know who you are." She left the room without looking at him. She knew if she had turned to look, she wouldn't be able to control herself and would burst into tears.


	26. Chapter 26

Thursday night, Hermione stayed in the tower. She knew she couldn't give Draco the physical antidote to his condition without getting extremely upset, so she figured she might as well take his anger away in the Nightmare Room. Somehow, after all that had happened, she still felt like she owed him that.

Right after their fight, she climbed the stairs to the tower room cautiously. She hadn't been in there in over a week and it felt strange to be back. The air in the stairwell seemed heavy with anticipation. Hermione realized that it must not be just her. It was almost like the room was waiting for her to return, begging her to step inside. It was a wholly unnatural feeling.

When she finally made it past the alcoves filled with candles, she pushed the door to the room open as quickly as she could. The room looked just as she'd left it, almost docile in how normal it looked. She took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Other than the overwhelming feeling of dread she'd been carrying on her way up the stairs, nothing inside the room felt any different. It relieved her a bit, because she'd actually thought the room would somehow lash out at her for leaving it. She sat on the bed carefully and kicked off her shoes. It was only eight in the evening, but she felt so tired, maybe from her fight with Draco. She knew if she'd just lay down here for a few minutes she'd feel better about the whole situation.

Hermione's eyes closed and immediately she was borne unto a cavalcade of nightmares that lasted the entire night. Each one was short, but it seemed to take up hours in her mind, and for that reason, when she awakened early Friday morning, she thought she must have been sleeping for days on end.

When her eyes finally wrenched open at the sunlight pouring in the room, they felt raw and dry from tears that had flowed all night. Her throat ached and she realized she must have been screaming as well.

"Thank you," she said hoarsely to Arietta, who had just handed her a cup of tea with honey. The little elf's giant eyes were brimming with tears, and Hermione had to turn away. She couldn't see anyone cry for her, especially not an elf who lived her life in what was basically indentured servitude. No one needed to cry over Hermione, not even herself.

Once she was fully awake, she checked the clock on the wall. It was earlier than she normally woke up, and Hermione assumed that Arietta had decided to take mercy on her by opening the curtains sooner. She went downstairs to the guest bedroom where she'd been staying and went directly to the closet full of Narcissa's clothes. After the verbal spanking Narcissa's ghost had given Hermione the day before, she really wasn't keen on wearing the woman's clothes, but what other choice did she have, really?

She shuffled through the dresses and came to the green gown she'd picked out for the Halloween party. It was so beautiful, and much more expensive than anything she'd ever owned before. Sure, she'd spent some serious money on books, but things like dresses and finery were not part of her budget.

She ran her fingers over the emerald material and tried to imagine how she could attend this party first of all with Draco, and second of all without anyone figuring out who she really was. Hermione couldn't think of anyone she knew that worked at Malfoy Inc, but she was sure they would all know her, whether in a good way or a bad way. She was sincerely considering glamouring herself or simply not attending, but then she realized that she'd been out of the public eye for a few years working with the Order. There was a chance that with her hair done and in a fancy dress, no one suspect she was the bushy haired child that helped Harry Potter. Maybe it would work out after all. Now she just had to make up with her date.

Hermione realized she had been very harsh on Draco, and after a long evening of nightmares, most of which starred a disappearing or dying Draco, she knew she had to talk to him about it. Hermione picked out a dress that she thought would work well for an apology and went to get dressed.

xxx

Hermione arrived at the foot of the stairs and looked around cautiously. For the first time all week, no one was visiting with samples of food, drink or decorations for the party. All was silent. Hermione smoothed her skirt and set out to find Draco. She knew of course that it was breakfast time so he must be in the dining room.

She made it to the dining room door and looked down at herself carefully. Her dress was lightweight and white and fell to her knees in an a-line skirt. The top was sleeveless with a high collar that was opposed by a low cut neckline. All in all it was the right combination of classy and casual, and Hermione always looked good when she paired white fabric against her tanned skin.

She took a deep breath and pushed through the door. Just as she expected, Draco was seated in his usual chair with his back to her. What surprised her, though, was that the usual seat she took next to him had been removed, and there was only the other chair at the far end of the table. She stared at the offending chair a little dejectedly. She had gotten used to sitting at his left hand.

She gathered up what pride she had left and took her seat at the far end of the table. The food was served soon after, but Draco simply sat, staring at his empty plate. Hermione opted to remain as normal as possible and got some fruit to eat, but even as she munched, she couldn't keep her eyes off of him.

He looked so alone and depressed. It was like she didn't exist in the same world as him. She didn't understand what was going on, but she knew she couldn't avoid him forever, so she dragged her chair over to where she had been sitting previously. An elf helpfully moved her dishes in front of her. Hesitantly, Hermione reached out and took Draco's hand.

A tiny moan immediately escaped his mouth, but there was no change in his demeanor, nor did he return the pressure on her hand. The only reason Hermione knew she had any effect on him at all was because a few minutes later, his eyes closed. This subtle little sign made Hermione know that he had forgiven her, at least his body had. She decided she would speak.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Draco's eyes opened, but he continued to stare at his plate. "What would you have to be sorry for, Granger?"

"Don't call me that," she replied, but there was no malice in her voice. "I'm sorry that I let my anger get in the way of accepting the fact that you care about me. This whole situation just scares me, and I'm not sure how to respond."

'You could respond by feeling the same," Draco said so quietly she almost missed it.

"How am I supposed to know how you really feel?" Hermione asked. "I don't know how much of this is you and me and how much of it is you and the curse and me being the antidote."

"No," Draco said. "I feel something for you beyond what the curse makes me feel for you. I think I've had an appreciation for you over the years that you just never noticed. If I had to say when it started, it was probably 3rd year when you punched me on the grounds. Ever since then, I've had a sort of respect for you, which I guess turned into adoration. I never really knew I could act on it until you showed up here and started affecting me."

Hermione looked up and saw Draco's eyes on her finally. She was shocked that he was admitting all this to her. She really didn't think his feelings for her had any basis in their past. She thought it was just a matter of convenience with the curse.

He continued, "I know that you'll probably never be able to love someone like me, but just know that it isn't just the curse making me care about you. I'm affected more by your mind, your beauty, your snark and your eyes than I am by any curse."

Hermione blushed, but remained silent. She knew it was a big deal for Draco to admit all of this, so the only thing she could think to do was to kiss him. So she did. The kiss was sudden and impromptu and crazy, but Hermione could do nothing else but lean over the table and take his lips in her own. The connection there was more than physical; the air between them was charged with the emotions that he'd finally admitted to.

Draco needed her closer, so he pulled her around the edge of the table and into his lap. They stayed connected like that for a long time, only stopping when one of them needed to breathe. But who needs breath or food or anything when you feel such a perfect connection?

When they finally couldn't stay connected at the lips any longer, Hermione stayed in his lap, her legs folded up next to his. She sat facing him, running her hands through his hair gently as he leaned his head back, eyes closed.

"What does it feel like?" she asked quietly.

"What?" he asked huskily, without opening his eyes.

"You said when I touch you, or I'm around that you feel better, different. I want to know what it feels like," she explained.

Draco opened his eyes and thought for a moment before responding. "Honestly, there is no way I could ever describe it. Nothing I could say would properly convey it to you."

"Oh," Hermione replied, a little sad. She wanted to know the effect she had on him.

"I have an idea," he said suddenly. "How good are you at legilimency?"

"Um, I'm alright. I can't go too far back, and I know I can't do it without the person noticing."

"That's fine; we don't need you to go back very far. Just a moment or two," Draco replied.

"What are you planning?" Hermione asked, actually curious for once.

"Just follow me," Draco replied. "I know how hard it is for your brain not to riddle something out, but do try for once."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but led him lead her from the room. They went round corners and down hallways that Hermione hadn't seen before. They went up one, two, three stories and still Draco wasn't stopping. Finally when they had gone as far as Hermione thought possible from the side of the Manor she was used to being on, Draco stopped in front of a pair of double doors. The doors were made of very dark wood but somehow still shone from the glossy stain.

Draco grabbed one of the handles and pushed the door open before saying, "Welcome to my bedroom." He walked inside but let Hermione's hand go so she could walk at her own pace.

Hermione hesitated in the doorway, but the room before her was too stunning to not enter. The carpet was plush in a shade of creamy ivory. The walls were a slate grey, but they somehow didn't make the room seem dark or small, but instead opened it up like storm clouds on the horizon. Hermione focused on the right hand wall and realized it actually was moving like storm clouds. She was looking at a wall made up entirely of windows. The way it had been angled in, all one could see was the sky. She bet that sunset was otherworldly in those windows.

Other than the huge glass wall, the other focal point in the room was the bed. It was huge, bigger than a king size bed and was dressed entirely in white silk. The posts had white floaty fabric wrapped around them dreamily. Hermione saw a few doors, which must have led to a bathroom and a closet. She didn't know what the third and fourth doors led to, but she was sure it was something extravagant. Once she finished looking at the grey black and white items that made up the décor, she turned her attention to Draco.

"It's beautiful," she commented. "Did you design it?"

Draco nodded, and said, "This wing of the Manor was built after my father died when I took custody of it. I just thought I needed a room and I didn't want to live in my Father's room. Walking in his footsteps has gotten me in enough trouble already."

Despite her better judgment, Hermione sat on the bed. It was like sitting on a cloud. She couldn't imagine how wonderful sleeping on it would be. "So, why were you asking about my skill as a legilimens? Still think I'm a spy?" she asked jokingly.

"No, I know you're a spy, but I also know I have nothing to hide. I want you to use legilimency on me," he explained, not explaining anything.

"What am I looking for?" she asked curiously.

"I want you to feel what I felt a moment before. That's the only way I can show you what it feels like to touch you. You want have to go far, so if you lose your concentration, it won't hurt either of us. But I do want you to understand why I feel this need to touch you all the bloody time." Draco watched her face carefully, gauging her reaction.

"Okay," she said softly. "I'll do the best I can."

Draco grinned and sat down next to her. "Okay, so just touch me, and then use legilimency to see my experience of that touch."

Hermione took out her wand and cleared her mind. She needed to be utterly emotionless for legilimency to work for her. "_Legilimens_" she muttered, and then took hold of Draco's hand. She felt an odd duplicity at once, as she could feel her hand touching Draco's, but she could also feel Draco's hand being touched by her. She focused on Draco's hand and felt a warm glow extending to the very tip of his fingers. She moved her hand up his arm and felt a tingling sensation affecting the hairs on his arm, making them stand up. It was so strange, touching him ad knowing exactly how it affected him.

Every movement with her hands sent a strange tingling through his body, like a jolt of electricity. She couldn't see the physical effect on his body, because she had to keep eye contact to hold the connection, but his eyes told a story his body never could. His normally silver eyes were dark and stormy, whether from the reflection of the window or from some internal emotion.

She moved her hands to his face, pulling it towards her slightly parted lips. If hands felt like warm sparkles, kisses must feel like fireworks. Their eyes met, and Hermione's eyes fell shut, not of her own volition. Behind her eyelids she saw what Draco saw every time they kissed. The most blissful feeling of oneness overcame her as the lights and colors danced behind her eyes. She threw herself into the feeling, somehow still connected to Draco's emotions though the eye contact had long since been lost.


	27. Chapter 27

When the blissful couple came to, Draco was lying back on his bed and Hermione was curled up against him with her head on his chest. Hermione was still seeing stars, and even though they'd only kissed it had been on a completely different level than anything more intimate she'd ever done. If this was what it was like for Draco just being around her, she didn't know how he contained himself.

"That was…" Hermione started to say, but couldn't finish. What word could compare to that feeling? "Indescribably wonderful," she concluded.

Draco chuckled and pulled her closer. "Never thought I'd see the day when you were at a loss for words."

"Shut up," Hermione muttered.

"Hey, I'm just enjoying the silence," he said playfully. He shifted over so he was on his side, even with her. "So now do you see?" he asked.

She nodded slowly, trying not to fall back into that dream of emotion she'd felt before.

"That happens every time we touch," he said tenderly, touching her chin softly.

Hermione closed her eyes to his touch. He was always so tender with her, despite his anger issues. She realized that here, in his arms, she felt safe. "Thank you," she said.

"For what?" Draco asked.

"For sharing that with me," she replied with a kiss on the forehead.

"I'd do anything for you," he said honestly. "Even let you poke around my head with your subpar Legilimency skills."

"Hey!" Hermione cried, slapping him on the arm.

"What?" Draco said indignantly. "You can't even do it nonverbally, let alone wandless."

Hermione winced slightly as she felt Draco start poking around in her memories. She tried to block him, but she hadn't practiced Occlumency in a while. Before she managed to push him out, he managed to dredge up her worst memory – being tortured in the drawing room by Bellatrix Lestrange. She pushed harder and he was gone, but the memory had obviously had an effect on him.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say, and Hermione knew the combination of experiencing her pain and suffering was exacerbated by the pain of being forced out of her mind.

"Of all the memories, how did you get to that one?" Hermione wondered aloud. She'd locked that away so fiercely that sometimes she hoped that she'd imagined it. Now here it was, the same old pain back again to torment her. She closed her eyes against it.

It wasn't until Draco wiped her cheeks that she realized she'd been crying. What he said next surprised her almost as much.

"I should have stopped her," he said, his voice rough. "I could have done something, spared you, but I hid inside myself."

"You were just a scared boy," Hermione replied, calming herself down.

"No, I could have done something. I should have helped you." A silent tear fell down his cheek, and Hermione couldn't tell if it was because of seeing the pain first hand or the same old lingering guilt from his old life, but that single tear touched her. It made her realize that he was still human somehow.

"There was nothing you could do," Hermione said. "And it shaped the way my life went. It's a terrible memory that I don't visit even in my worst nightmares because I've locked it so far away inside myself, but it fueled me. It made me stronger. I swore that I would never let anyone else go through that. That's why I haven't given up my fight against the Death Eaters. To do such evil should not go without punishment."

"You should hate me," Draco said, "for that day alone."

"I hated her, and I hated everyone who helped her become such a monster, but I can't hate you, not now," Hermione explained. "Not when you've done nothing but be good to me. You've more than proven you deserve forgiveness, and though I forgave you a long time ago, I now know it was the right choice."

"Thank you," Draco said with an unreadable expression in his eyes. The way he looked at her was as if finally seeing through new eyes. It embarrassed Hermione, and she buried her head in his chest.

They lay there well through lunch and only moved when rain started beating against the glass wall. Hermione rolled over and watched the rain's assault. "I guess we should go back downstairs," Hermione said a few minutes later. "It's nearly dinner."

"Just because you take two hours to get ready, doesn't mean I do," he murmured into her hair.

Hermione slapped him in the thigh playfully, and sat up. "I have no idea what you're insinuating, Mr. Malfoy," she said in a mocking voice.

"Woman, you are so abusive!" he said, rubbing his leg. "Fine, if you don't want to enjoy my massive bed with me then go play with your hair or whatever women do."

Hermione laughed and said, "Actually I wanted to go over the curse book before dinner and make sure we hadn't missed anything, since tomorrow's the big day and all."

Draco nodded, and asked, "Do you want company?"

"No, go play with your broomstick or whatever men do," she said with a laugh before leaving the bedroom.

She got outside the door and realized she had no idea how to get back to her room. "Arietta?" she called, not sure if the elf would answer to her.

Arietta appeared with a crack and replied, "Yes, Miss?"

"Can you show me back to my room?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, of course," Arietta replied, grabbing Hermione's hand. With a loud crack, they were in the guest room Hermione had been using.

"Not exactly what I had in mind," Hermione said rubbing her head. House elf apparition always made her nauseous. "Thank you, though."

"Shall Arietta come back to get miss ready before dinner?" the elf asked eagerly.

"That would be nice, thank you," Hermione said. The little elf blushed at the gratitude, but curtseyed and disappeared with another ear-splitting crack.

Hermione sat at the small desk in the corner of the room and laid out the curse book and her notes along with Charlie's letter. She pored over the information until Arietta came back to get her ready.

Mind swimming with facts, she dressed in a deep plum strapless cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline. It looked a little young for Narcissa. Hermione went back in the closet and noticed that there were quite a few new dresses in there she hadn't seen before. She found a price tag on one and the number of zeros astounded her.

Once her hair was smoothed and tied to the side in a silver barrette, Hermione stormed down to the dining room. "Did you buy me dresses?" she asked once she was face to face with Draco.

Draco downed his drink, which smelled like whiskey or scotch, and smiled before saying, "So what if I did?"

"I have my own clothing, you know. It's in my apartment. Where I haven't been in a month," she said pointedly.

"Well, when Felicia did my fitting for the ball, she brought along some dresses that she thought you would like based on your preferences the day before. She's my personal shopper," he said. "It's just her job to make sure I look good, and by default, you."

Hermione scowled and crossed her arms. "Well I don't like it," she pouted.

"Well that dress looks lovely on you," he complimented.

Hermione tried to keep the scowl and said, "Compliments will get you nowhere, Mr. Malfoy." She stopped just sort of sticking her tongue out.

Draco's mouth was set in a hard line, but his eyes were twinkling with mirth. Who did he think he was, making fun of her like that! Hermione fumed and went to sit at the table. She saw that the chair was still near Draco's, but when she went to pull it out, Draco stopped her and did it himself. She glared at him, but couldn't keep from smiling, so she settled for having a seat.

Draco sat down as well and took her hand. "Did you find anything else in your research?" he asked seriously.

"Just that you have to…err… procreate with a muggleborn in a dungeon at midnight on Halloween," Hermione said, blushing.

"Does the time matter that much?" he asked.

"I don't think so, but I want all the stars to be aligned for this one, so the more alike we can make it to the original spell, the better," she replied.

"So, have you considered whether you are willing to take part in this?" Draco asked carefully.

His cautious words confused Hermione, and she gave him a quizzical look. "What?"

"Sorry, I'm not sued to asking girls if they'll have sex with me; it usually just happens."

Hermione laughed, and said, "Well if you want this curse broken, I guess you'll have to sweep me off my feet tomorrow." She smiled coyly.

"I think that can be arranged," he said with a cheeky grin.

"The other thing we need to worry about is whether the guests will still be around when it comes time for the actual… curse breaking," Hermione said.

"Don't worry," Draco said. "The dungeons are far enough down that no one will hear a thing." He winked and Hermione controlled her urge to smack the dirty look off his face.

"You're lucky you're cute," Hermione said, "or I'd slap that look right off your face."

"Cute?" Draco gasped, clutching a hand to his chest. "You wound me!"

"Come off it, Malfoy," she said jokingly, waving a hand in his direction. They both laughed and finished their meal in a comfortable silence.

After dinner, Draco took Hermione out to see the fairies again. She thought to herself that this may well be the last time she saw them, since she had no plans of staying at Malfoy Manor after Halloween. She had doubts that after the curse was broken their connection would be as strong. She worried that it may even break completely and he would no longer love her as he said he did. She tried to push these thoughts away and focus on the strong arms holding her, but she had an overwhelming sense of dread that could not be dissuaded.

Even that night when she fell asleep in his grand bed, she worried about what Halloween might bring for them.


	28. Chapter 28

Hermione woke up to the most brilliant sunlight streaming through the glass wall in Draco's room. Instead of being angry at being woken up so early, she was absolutely enthralled by the beauty before her. From her vantage point on the bed all she could see was a perfectly blue sky and white fluffy clouds with hints of pink streaming through them. As she moved toward the window, she started to see the horizon below, and realized how massive the land around the manor truly was. She couldn't see another building anywhere, just long sloping hills of green speckled by the occasional ancestral tree.

Warm hands wound around her waist, and Hermione felt Draco leaning his body against her own. "You're up early," he said softly, nuzzling against her hair.

Hermione smiled to herself and said, "With a view this beautiful, I'm surprised you get any sleep at all in here."

Draco chuckled and said, "It's hard to find time to really appreciate it, I suppose."

They were quiet for a while as they watched the sun rise higher in the sky. Even at such a great height, Hermione didn't feel scared with Draco holding her. It was remarkable really, since she remembered getting nauseous at the top of the Eiffel tower as a teenager.

"Are you excited for the party?" she asked.

"I'm excited to see you all dressed up," he replied simply. "And I'm excited about what will happen at midnight."

"I hope it works," she said softly. She had been worrying about a lot of things, but the effectiveness of the curse being broken was far from it. She still had doubts that he would want anything to do with her once he was free of the connection to her. She decided to let the day take its course, though. Only time would tell.

"I'm sure it will," Draco replied. "I have the smartest witch of our age to thank for that, I guess."

Hermione blushed. Her once lauded intelligence had been overcome by her fame as Harry Potter's best friend and accomplice. No one really called her that anymore and it still made her a bit shy. "Let's get breakfast," she suggested, turning around.

"I'm only hungry for one thing," he muttered, bringing his lips to hers. Hermione closed her eyes and lost herself in the kiss. She didn't know how many of them she'd have after the night was over, and she wanted to remember him like this.

When they got downstairs, there were tons of people running around and preparing for the party. "Wow, they got started early," Hermione commented.

"A lot of them are employed at the company," Draco said. "They want this to be perfect for their coworkers. It's the one night a year that they get appreciated, so they look forward to it."

Hermione's smile drooped a little when she realized she had no idea who or what she'd be up against that night. "Is there any way I can see a guest list?" Hermione asked.

"Any particular reason?" Draco asked.

"I just want to see if anyone I know is coming," Hermione said simply.

Danielle walked up to them with a clipboard and a quick-quotes quill. It seemed like it was writing what she was thinking, rather than using verbal dictation. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy," she said cheerily, but in all honesty she looked stressed.

"Danielle, do you have a copy of the guest list?" he asked.

She shuffled through the thick stack of papers on the clipboard and pulled out a sheet. "Here you go! If you'll excuse me, I have to oversee the ballroom cleaning crew." She was gone quickly, and Draco handed the list to Hermione.

"Danielle might want that back," he warned, before moving into the dining room and taking his seat.

Hermione skimmed the page as she sat down. She recognized very few names, but was surprised to see Ginny Weasley's name near the bottom along with a lot of her teammates. "Why are the Holyhead Harpies invited?" Hermione asked.

"I sponsor their team. Something to do with corporate social responsibility," he said shrugging.

"Oh," Hermione said. "Well, my friend Ginny plays for them, so she'll be here I guess."

"At least you won't be completely without company, although I would have liked you hanging on my arm all night," Draco said with a smirk.

Hermione rolled her eyes and replied, "I haven't talked to her lately; I'm sure she'll be surprised to see me." This wasn't strictly a lie, as she hadn't talked to anyone in a month, but Ginny still worked with the Order when at all possible. She was certain the sponsorship had been somewhat Ginny's doing. They'd been investigating Draco Malfoy for years. She wondered how she was going to handle Ginny. It was not going to be easy to balance her true feelings for Draco and her assumed mission there. She couldn't risk being taken from the manor before she got the chance to help him break the curse.

"Sickle for your thoughts," Draco said, pulling her back to reality.

"Oh, just reminiscing about Ginny," Hermione replied half-truthfully.

"She's a Weasley, right? Didn't she go to school with us?" Draco asked.

"Yeah, she's their only girl. I think I remember her getting you with a bat-bogey hex in Fifth year," Hermione said with a grin.

Draco groaned and replied, "That was absolutely horrific!"

Hermione cracked up at the completely serious look on his face and finished her breakfast. "You amaze me, Draco Malfoy," she said with a sigh.

Draco gave her a sideways glance, but didn't say anything. After breakfast he went to oversee the party preparations and he was swept off by Felicia's assistant to start getting ready.

"Seriously?" Hermione whined as she was dragged up the stairs. "It's not even 10 am!"

"Sweetie," he said, pulling her along, "You're going to need every minute of this time."

Hermione resigned herself to being poked and prodded by Felicia's style team, but the overall process was mostly painless. After they tossed her in the shower, she got to go to the conservatory for a massage, followed by a facial and relaxing under a sunlamp. She must have needed the Vitamin D, because soaking up rays really picked her mood up.

Lunch was brought to her in the conservatory and she was happy that it was something light. She munched away at the croissant and fruit and tried to keep her mind off the night ahead, but she couldn't help it. It just wasn't normal to plan out something so intimate. Every time she'd ended up making love with a boyfriend or even the couple of short flings she'd had, things had been spontaneous and romantic and she'd never regretted a minute. She just hoped she didn't lose it tonight, because she really didn't want to regret Draco Malfoy.

After lunch, there was much more beautifying to do. Hermione had never had so much hair plucked and waxed before, and by the end of it she felt more naked than ever. Luckily they put her in a warm fluffy robe and started focusing on her fingernails and toes. She wondered if she should have sent an owl to Ginny to warn her that she'd be at the ball, but then, that would involve admitting she saw the guest list since Ginny hadn't told her. Maybe she wouldn't even show up? Then again, Hermione sincerely doubted Ginny would pass up on any party at somewhere as fancy as the Manor.

xxx

Draco sat very still as he watched the caterers and other employees bustle around getting things ready for the party. He sometimes wished that he could be more hands on in situations like this, but his Father had ingrained in him how to be a good businessman as well as how to be an appropriate boss. He learned from example how to be just distant enough to gain respect and just kind enough to deserve that respect.

Draco tried to focus on the letter he was writing, but he couldn't focus. He was worried about the night to come. He had such high hopes resting on tonight, not only because the curse might be broken, but because he really wanted the chance to be with Hermione fully. He knew that until the curse was no longer binding him to her, she would never believe that his feelings were real, but he truly felt different about her than anyone.

He thought he'd loved Pansy in school. They had dated for years, but after a while it became clear that she was just saying and doing whatever he wanted because her parents had held her inheritance over her like a carrot over a horse. Pansy finally had admitted that if she didn't seduce him, her parents had threatened to cut her off, but since she'd managed to hold out til 17, she was a legal adult in the Wizarding World and could pursue emancipation from her parents. Then there was Astoria Greengrass. For a while he thought that he could put up with her for the long haul, but he never really loved her. In fact, he had trouble dissecting the way he felt about her from the way he felt about her sister. Daphne was the ideal sister-in-law. She was funny, sweet and caring and she defended Astoria to Draco pretty often. It turned out that all the times Daphne stood up for her sister, she was covering up Astoria's infidelity. Draco ended up finding about her exploits in a scathing article written in Witch Weekly. Daphne was infinitely apologetic, but Draco couldn't see himself staying in a relationship with someone who wouldn't commit to him fully. His mother had been very upset when the engagement ended.

Draco finished writing his letter and sent it off with his Eagle Owl, Zeus. He then got up from the table and walked into the ballroom to see how it was going. The chandeliers were still being cleaned, but it looked like most of the other cleaning was done, which would mean decorations would be going up next. He felt a little bad about them having to do a full cleaning of the ballroom, but he just didn't have the manpower to clean the disused rooms in the Manor, and he didn't want more House elves since he was only one man.

An hour later, the owl returned with a response. Draco smiled at the page and went to the fireplace. He lifted the wards for the person he had written to and waited for them to arrive. When his guest arrived, he let them follow him down the hall to the conservatory before making his exit.

"Hermione?" a voice called from the doorway. Hermione looked up and saw someone she hadn't been expecting.


	29. Chapter 29

"Ginny?" Hermione said in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question!" Ginny said in shock. "Malfoy wrote me and said there was someone I needed to see, so he let the wards down so I could floo over."

"Oh," Hermione replied. She didn't mean to sound so silly, but she didn't know why Draco would have invited her best friend over. "I guess I have a lot of explaining to do, huh?" Hermione asked meekly.

"Uh, yeah!" Ginny exclaimed, hands on her hips. "You've been off the map for almost a month."

"Andrea, James," Hermione said to the couple working on her nails. "Could we have some time alone?"

The two nail artists nodded, and left the conservatory. "Well?" Ginny asked harshly.

"Sit down," Hermione said. "It's gonna take a while to explain." Hermione cast a silencing charm on the room so they could speak freely. "I came here to investigate Malfoy as a possible Death Eater."

"Well, duh," Ginny said. "I was there when you got the assignment, and he's not a possible Death Eater, he has the Dark Mark, we know he's one."

"No, we know he used to be one," Hermione corrected.

"Whatever," Ginny snapped. "Just explain."

"Well the night I came here, I was in disguise as a wealthy woman from Spain, Bella Torres. I didn't know at the time that she'd been murdered a week before. I got close to Draco, and he slipped me veritaserum and started questioning me. So I fainted."

"On purpose?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course on purpose," Hermione replied exasperatedly. "What kind of woman do you think I am? Now stop interrupting. So when I woke up, he had removed the glamour charms, but somehow he didn't recognize me. I had taken a will-strengthening potion, so he still couldn't get anything out of me, and he got mad and knocked me out with his cane." She pointed to a sliver of scar tissue under her eye. She hadn't gotten to heal it in time.

Ginny nodded, but kept quiet, so Hermione continued. "I was out for a couple of days, and I woke up in a tower. Well, apparently I was expected to eat meals with him and dress in his dead mother's clothes, so I played along, but I made sure I was armed. He never tried to hurt me again. It actually took days before he figured out who I was, and when he did we fought."

Hermione thought back and blushed a little as she remembered how the fight ended. "Somehow, we ended up kissing."

Ginny opened her mouth to talk, but Hermione held up a hand to keep her silent. "I know now that he's not a Death Eater or even a sympathizer. He only holds the parties that they attend because it's the only way to stay under the radar. He mostly deals with his company, and has no interest or knowledge of their agenda. But I did find another link. Do you remember Blaise Zabini from school?"

Ginny nodded silently, enthralled.

"He came to the Manor not too long ago," Hermione explained. "I listened into their conversation in Draco's office, and he confirmed indirectly that Draco had nothing to do with the Death Eaters anymore, but at the same time, Blaise admitted to being in the inner circle. So I think he'll be the key to taking them down. I tried to get information out of him, but we were… interrupted."

"Wait a minute," Ginny cut in. "If you knew weeks ago that Malfoy's not a Death Eater, why are you still here?"

"Well that's not as easy to explain," Hermione said carefully. She examined her half-painted nails if only to have something to look at other than Ginny's face.

"Look at me," Ginny said, her voice softening. She perused her friend's face carefully. "You like him, don't you?"

"What?" Hermione scoffed. "Of course not!"

"You always were a terrible liar, Hermione." Ginny smiled in a way that was almost a smirk, and Hermione knew she'd outed herself. Hermione blushed furiously.

"I bet he likes you too," Ginny said softly.

"How do you know?" Hermione asked warily.

"Why else would he call your best friend over before the ball while you're getting ready? He wanted to do something nice for you." Ginny grinned at her friend's shyness. It was so rare that she fell for someone. Ginny was glad she'd finally let herself be happy with someone, even if it was Draco bloody Malfoy.

"I guess so," Hermione said with a small smile. "He's been really sweet to me, but I'm afraid…" she trailed off. She knew Draco didn't want anyone to know about the Malfoy curse, but she needed to vent to someone.

"What are you afraid of, Hermione?" Ginny asked, knowing her friend was normally quite fearless. She was one of the strongest, most versatile agents in the Order. Ginny helped out when she could, especially in the Quidditch off-season, but she was nowhere near as seasoned and irreplaceable as Hermione.

Hermione broke down and told Ginny everything. She explained the curse, described every kiss they'd shared, even tried to describe the feeling when she used Legilimency on him. When she finished pouring her guts out, Ginny sighed.

"I was wrong," Ginny said. "He doesn't just like you; it sounds like he loves you. He put himself in a vulnerable place just so you didn't have nightmares. He brought me here to see you. As much as I hate to say it, he sounds like a changed man, and I think a lot of that has to do with you."

Hermione's face scrunched up and she was about to reply, when the nail artist's waving arms got her attention. "Oops," she said. "I guess I should let them back in."

"Yeah, that paint job's looking rough," Ginny mocked.

"Hey, I've got all these beauty technicians or whatever they'd be called, at my beck and call. Want to take advantage?" Hermione offered.

"Do I!" Ginny responded enthusiastically.

Hermione took the silencing charm off and let the beauticians back in. Her two nail artists finished her manicure and pedicure and some other assistants gave Ginny a similar facial to the one she'd had earlier.

A few hours later, it was dinner time, and then it would be time for hair, makeup and getting into their dresses.

"I guess I have to get home and grab my things," Ginny said, looking at her watch.

"Nonsense," a voice said from behind them. Draco strode into the room. "I had an elf go and fetch everything you need for tonight. I assume you'll be alright with letting our makeup artists handle cosmetics though, because I didn't have Arietta grab any of that."

Ginny giggled – she actually giggled! - and said, "She would have no idea where to start; I have so much!"

Draco laughed good-naturedly, causing Hermione to think she'd been transported to some parallel universe where Ginny Weasley got along with Draco Malfoy and vice versa. Hermione must have given them an odd look, because Draco laughed again, and said, "Don't look so shocked. Ginevra and I have been friendly for a while now. I sponsor her team and in the off-season she volunteers at the company to test new broom technology."

Ginny nodded, and added, "It's brilliant. I get to test out the new broom charms before anyone else!"

They walked to the dining room, and Hermione was surprised to see three place settings at the table. The house elves were practically psychic. She sat down next Draco and Ginny sat on his other side, across from Hermione.

"I thought a light dinner would be good, since there will be hors d'oeuvres at the party," Draco said, as a house elf placed soup and sandwiches on the table.

Hermione noticed with a pang that it was the same meal she'd made Draco in the kitchen. She caught his gaze and smiled, his grey eyes twinkling back at her. She could tell this was no accident. He was so sweet to her in such little ways, she didn't really understand the feeling she got when he did. It was something akin to the way he felt when he touched her, if not so extreme. There was this warmth in the pit of her stomach, and she didn't know what it meant really. She only knew that she liked it.

After dinner, Ginny scurried upstairs to Hermione's room to get ready and let Draco and Hermione have some time to themselves. Hermione guessed the latter was a bigger reason in her decision to go. Hermione looked up at Draco, who grabbed her by the waist and carried her across the room to the fireplace. His customary black armchair appeared, and he sat, placing Hermione on his lap.

"I've missed you today," he muttered burying his face in her chocolate-brown hair.

"I've missed you too," she replied. "I'm sure you would have been better company than those beauty masochists. I swear I'd get poked and prodded less at St. Mungo's!"

Draco pulled back from her hair with an infectious smile. "How did I never know in school that you were funny?"

"Guess you were too busy hexing me and getting my teachers fired," she replied, but there was no conviction in it.

Despite the light-hearted way she said it, the comment still stung Draco. What could he ever do to prove that he deserved her? He decided to bring things back to a more neutral ground by saying, "Are you happy to see Ginny?"

"Yes, thank you for that. Speaking of, I'd better get upstairs and get ready. Only two hours until guests arrive!" Hermione said, hopping off his lap. Draco pouted at losing her touch, but Hermione just laughed and went upstairs. He would never understand what took women so long to get ready. Maybe it was the fact that he was already devastatingly handsome, but he didn't take long to get ready at all. Well, unless you counted his hair.

Draco went to his office and found a singed envelope on his desk. It must have been sent through the floo. He tore it open, avoiding the still-hot wax seal.

_Mr. Malfoy,_

_I look forward to seeing you at tonight's ball. Perhaps my invitation was lost by that blundering owl of yours? Still, your excitement to see me must be unbearable. Or maybe I'm confusing you with your sexy house guest? Either way…_

_Blaise Zabini, Esq._

Draco crumpled up the letter and threw it back in the fire. How dare he! He decided to check in with his security before the party began. He had to make sure that scumbag stayed away from his Hermione. _My Hermione? _He thought. _Draco, you're really messed up._ Draco pushed the thoughts away and went to the front door to check on the security.

xxx

Upstairs, Hermione showed Ginny her dress. "It's so beautiful!" Ginny gushed. "A little Slytherin for you though isn't it?" she ribbed playfully.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "I've always looked good in green, you know. What are you wearing?"

Ginny showed her the sparkly black dress she'd gotten at Madam Malkin's. It was skin tight and floor length with a slit that showed an almost indecent amount of leg. The top was modest, since Ginny didn't have much cleavage to throw around anyway, but the back scooped low, and Hermione was sure Ginny would look drop dead gorgeous in it.

"Too much?" Ginny asked, seeing Hermione's face.

"No, it's perfect. Any special escort taking you to the party tonight?" Hermione asked.

"Actually," Ginny said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "I didn't know you'd be here tonight so I didn't tell you, but I got Harry to come back a day early for the party. Plus, our Halloweens are always so exciting, I figured tonight would be a perfect chance to convince him to come back for good."

Hermione's jaw dropped. Ginny being on good terms with Draco was one thing, but she highly doubted Harry would feel the same. "Are you sure you won't just scare him off?" Hermione said nervously. "I'm sure you could skip it and have a nice night out on the town instead."

"No way!" Ginny replied. "This is the place to be tonight! Besides, Harry's all 'we should forgive each other and rebuild,' so I figure he can test that hypothesis tonight."

Hermione racked her brains to find an excuse for Harry not to come. She just couldn't handle her best friend seeing her accompany his nemesis to a huge public party. "I know your relationship's been on an indefinite hiatus since the war, but do you really think Harry can handle being thrown into a situation like this?"

"Look Hermione," Ginny said seriously. "I know you're nervous about him seeing you with Draco, but you two are in love! He'd have to be blind not to see it. Better that he finds out now than later into his visit. You don't want to lie to him, do you?"

Hermione put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes before saying, "I don't even know how I feel about Draco. I don't know if I love him. I know I like him, and I like how sweet he is to me, but I don't know how he really feels. I won't know until this curse is broken."

Ginny was quiet for a while, and then said, "What if just having sex isn't enough to break the curse? What if it requires something with more commitment? What if it requires…love?"


	30. Chapter 30

Hermione mulled over what Ginny said as her hair was styled by a witch with way too much eye makeup. If breaking the curse required more than just physicality, she didn't know if she'd be able to get over her own issues enough to reciprocate. She worried over this as her hair finished and the makeup artist started on her, her eyebrows knitted together in thought.

"No scowling, Hermione," Ginny teased. "It's the most magical night of the year! Besides, I'm sure Hilda will be upset if you ruin that gorgeous make-up job."

Hermione smiled and turned to look at herself in the mirror. The transformation from an hour before was dramatic. Her hair had been tamed into soft waves which were the pulled up partially with the diamond and emerald combs. If anything, her hair seemed to have more volume than when they started, but somehow it was a good look. Her makeup was fairly simple, even though she'd felt like a china doll being painted while they were applying it. The eye makeup was the most dramatic with painted emerald swirls extending from her eyelids onto her cheeks.

Hermione turned to see if Ginny was ready, and her friend was just pulling up the zipper on her dress.

"You look great, Ginny," Hermione commented kindly.

"You too!" Ginny said with significantly more excitement in her voice. "I'm going to floo back to my apartment to meet Harry, but we'll be back soon enough for the party."

"Can't wait," Hermione said with thinly veiled sarcasm.

Ginny groaned before sitting in the chair next to Hermione. "It'll be fine. Harry won't care who you're with, he'll just be happy to see you."

"I think you're overestimating his willingness to let the past go. He's going to absolutely freak out about Draco and me. I'd put money on a fistfight between the two, or best case he and I will get into a row about it. I don't want to be fighting on his first night back."

Ginny was upset, but tried to hide it. "If you absolutely can't stand him being here, we won't go."

Hermione considered for a moment. She had her out, and a selfish little part of her wanted to take it. She wanted to be completely bratty and demand Ginny not go so that she could have her Cinderella moment with Draco, but she knew it wasn't right. She smiled ruefully, and said, "No, it's fine. I wouldn't want to take away this chance for you to dance with harry in an expensive ballroom in that gorgeous dress. At least do me a favor and get him drunk enough to not hate me."

"Done!" Ginny replied giddily. She kissed Hermione on the cheek and said, "See you soon!"

Soon Hermione was left with only the empty room as company. The beauticians had packed up their supplies and left, probably to get themselves ready for the party. She hung the tiered diamond necklace around her neck and put the earrings on as well. She slipped off her robe, revealing the lingerie Felicia had gotten for her. It was a little extravagant for her tastes, but considering where the night would be ending, she was glad to have it. She was just about to step into her dress when there was a knock at the door. Pulling the robe back on, she crept to the door and opened it a bit. Draco was outside, wearing what looked to be part of a tux. She opened the door fully and let him in.

"Hey," Draco said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I was getting a little stressed out, so I needed to see you."

Hermione nodded understandingly and pulled him close. She breathed in his scent and felt that pang in the pit of her stomach. Somehow she felt more safe in his arms than she had anywhere in the past 5 years. War had taken its toll on everyone, and though the public was lured into a sense of security after the fall of Voldemort, Hermione wasn't tricked into thinking it would last. But here, in his arms was this inexplicable feeling of home.

Hermione's emotions were racing at his touch. There was something sweet, and kind about him, so different than the coarse unrefined man she'd grown up with. But now he was so dear to her, and she didn't know why she hadn't seen that in him before. She knew that he was no Prince Charming, and this wasn't a fairytale, but there was something in him she simply hadn't seen before.

Draco pulled away, and smiled at Hermione. "You look beautiful," he said sweetly.

"I'm not even dressed yet," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"Well then I'll leave you to it. Meet you on the stairs in ten minutes?" Draco asked before leaving.

Hermione nodded and closed the door behind him. She sighed happily and leaned against the door. How could she feel this way about her former enemy? It was new and alarming, but she had this feeling that she could love him, if he ever gave her the chance. She had to hold out hope that the curse would be broken and she could spend time getting to know him without their strange connection and the threat of him losing his temper all the time.

She quickly got into her dress, struggling with the large skirt at first. Once she had it on, she looked in the mirror and adjusted the off-the-shoulder fabric so it lay perfectly. She slipped on the emerald shoes and checked her reflection once more. Something was missing. She dug around the dresser until she found what she needed: white elbow-length gloves. She transfigured them to a matching shade of emerald and slipped them on. Now her outfit was perfect.

She slipped out the door and into the hallway. It was just about time to meet Draco at the main stairwell before their entrance into the ballroom. She smoothed her dress needlessly as she neared the end of the hall. She was just a little nervous as to Draco's reaction to her dress. She didn't know what one wore to such parties, but she hoped her selection would be appropriate. Ginny's dress was far sexier, but Hermione had never been comfortable bearing flesh and preferred to leave more to the imagination. In all honesty, the dress made her feel like a princess in one of the books she'd adored as a child. In those stories, love always won out, and the girl always got her prince. She hoped after all was said and done tonight, she would be that lucky.

Draco was waiting at the bottom of the main stairs for Hermione when a rustle made him turn. There she stood, at the top of the stairs, looking for all the world like a princess. The dress she'd chosen was perfect. It was simply, yet grandiose. The top hugged her curves, but didn't look inappropriately vulgar. The neckline showed off her smooth skin, and he thought she might have some freckles on her shoulders. For once in his life, freckles seemed adorable, rather than disgusting. Maybe it was because they were on her.

As Hermione descended the stairs, she didn't take her eyes off her date. He had taken the color palette quite seriously apparently. He was wearing a tux with tails, but while the pants were black, the jacket was a deep green that complimented her dress nicely. The collar and edges of the jacket were accented with silver to match his silver vest. He didn't wear a bowtie, but instead had a pure white ascot that was affixed with a large emerald pin. He looked for all the world like royalty, and Hermione guessed in this case, he kind of was. He was the owner of the company, inviting his employees in like loyal subjects. She didn't know she felt about that, only that it was very kind of him to invite everyone into his home. She decided to focus on that fact, rather than the obvious extravagance of it all.

"Hello, love," he said when she reached him, practically purring. "You'll definitely be the most beautiful woman here tonight."

Hermione blushed, but took the arm he offered and let him lead her to the ballroom. The other guests were entering from the North end of the ballroom, near the front entrance, but Draco and Hermione entered from the South. Their entrance drew everyone's attention, and though they couldn't hear it in the large room, whispers immediately began flying about Draco's date.

"Not his usual tramp, huh?"

"Who is she?"

"I heard she's Bella Torres"

"That looks like Hermione Granger"

"A bookworm muggleborn and a Malfoy? No way"

I've never seen her here before"

"She's definitely different… maybe a little odd by the look of her"

"Doesn't quite fit in, that one"

Hermione and Draco were immune to their whispers and stares as he pulled her out onto the dance floor. The crowd parted as the string quartet began to play a beautiful waltz. Hermione had never been much of a dancer, but with Draco's comfortably commanding lead, she was gliding gracefully across the floor. Hermione mused on the moment as they danced. They'd barely even be considered friends before he'd so unexpectedly taken a liking to her. It was such a slight change that had led them to this moment, and it scared her as much as it did him. Neither of them were prepared for what the night would bring. They were just the same as before, so this relationship had come as a complete surprise. But now it seemed as sure as the sunrise, though the sunrise approaching may find a completely different couple than the one that danced in the ballroom that night. It was bittersweet and strange to Hermione to find that he could change so greatly. She wasn't used to being on the wrong side of things, but learning she was wrong this time had been so wonderful. Their story wasn't new; in fact their star-crossed love was a tale as old as time itself. But that didn't nullify the contradiction of the war hero and the former death eater sharing a dance, and sharing a kiss when the music ended.

Hermione pulled back from his kiss after a few moments, to join the crowd in its applause of the music. Draco kept his hand on her waist almost protectively as people started coming up to greet him. Hermione smiled and nodded as various employees, partners and even Ministry officials came up to greet Draco, and by default, her. No one called her out or greeted her by name, and she supposed she'd been out of the public eye long enough to be unrecognizable. She thanked the powers that be for that fact, and was just beginning to relax when a familiar flash of red hair entered the ballroom.

Hermione caught Ginny's gaze who smiled back, and looked over to her raven haired date. His emerald eyes were scanning the room, but he didn't seem to notice her yet. She excused herself from Draco's conversation with the head of marketing and hurried over to see him. When she was a few feet away, their eyes met, and Hermione was filled with an overwhelming joy at seeing her friend after so many months apart. She hadn't been to visit him since the previous Christmas and it had been far too long. Harry quickly closed the distance between them and swept her into a tight hug.

Hermione giggled as he spun her around and set her back down. "Harry!" she sighed, a warm smile on her face. "It's been too long."

"You have no idea, Hermione. There's nothing to do in Romania. Nothing. I'm just glad to see you," Harry said with a familiar grin. He had grown up a lot over the past couple of years, losing his boyish looks in favor of a more mature face and body. Hermione was happy to notice that he didn't seem as weathered as he had in the years since the war, and she couldn't help but think it was his reunion with Ginny that had caused the positive change.

Ginny caught up with them and looped her arm in Harry's happily. "You look great, Hermione!"

"Not as good as you do!" Hermione replied humbly.

"Yeah, well neither of you look better than me," Harry joked, receiving a wallop on either arm by both girls. "Ouch!" he winced.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "I'm glad you're back, but I'm surprised you let Ginny drag you to this."

"It wasn't entirely of my own accord," Harry replied, with a wink. Ginny scoffed, and he added, "But it's worth it to see Ginny in this dress." He kissed her on the cheek sweetly. "Speaking of, what brings you to the manor and in a dress to boot?"

Hermione sighed and said, "Suffice to say it's a long story that I'll tell you another day. Just don't get upset when you see my date."

"Who's your date?" Harry asked, just as Draco walked up.

"Potter," Draco greeted coldly.

"Malfoy," Harry replied with equal malice, before taking a deep breath and saying, "Thank you for having us."

Draco seemed stunned by this for a moment, then said, "Of course, any friend of Ginny's is welcome, even you."

Harry seemed surprised by the civility in his tone, but didn't comment. Ginny cut the tension by pulling on Harry's arm and saying, "Let's dance!" He acquiesced and they were quickly out of earshot.

Hermione turned to Draco, who had an odd look on his face. "Did you know Potter would be here?" he asked, without emotion.

"I tried to talk Ginny out of bringing him, but he's always been her one true love," Hermione replied a little sardonically.

Draco smiled slightly and said, "You almost sounded like a Slytherin there for a moment."

Hermione rolled her eyes as he took her hand, and pulled her out onto the dance floor. Hermione's heart sped up a bit when she realized she hadn't actually told Harry who her date was. She didn't know how he'd respond when he saw them together, but she hoped the goodwill of Draco not killing him on the spot would count for something.

At the end of the song, Harry quickly sought Hermione out, saying, "Let's dance." The look in his eyes said everything Hermione needed to know. He just wanted to dance so they could talk.

They began dancing, leaving their dates at the edge of the dance floor. "So," Harry began. "You didn't mention your relationship with Malfoy in your letters." His tone was formal and stiff, but she knew it was killing him not to know.

"It's kind of a new development," Hermione admitted.

"Wait, so there really is a relationship?" Harry asked, aghast.

Hermione inwardly sighed and said, "Yes, Harry. I came here on a mission and ended up liking him. Now you know."

"He's a Death Eater!" Harry hissed through his teeth.

"No," Hermione replied, lowering her tone so only he could hear it. "He's a reformed Death Eater. He doesn't have anything to do with them anymore. When his father went to Azkaban, he washed his hands of them."

"Oh, and that makes up for six years of bullying and harassment?" Harry replied predictably.

Hermione tried to find a way to explain it to him. "He's different now. I know that may be hard to believe, but he really cares about me, and I'm being careful. Don't worry about me."

"A snake doesn't change its scales, Hermione," Harry warned. "Just don't let him break your heart. You're my little sister. It's my job to protect you."

Hermione was about to reply, when a hand tapped on her shoulder, and Blaise Zabini asked to cut in. She was even more shocked when Harry let him. What was she getting herself into?

**A/N: Sorry for the cliffie there, but it seemed a good place to split the ball and I have to leave in a minute anyway. Did you notice all the BatB references in this chapter? Hope they weren't to transparent!**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Sorry this took so long! I got distracted last night, so this is the first chapter that's taken more than one day to write! With so little left in the story, I really have no reason to be procrastinating! Anyway, here it is, provided I don't get distracted by Dramione manips today!**

Harry took the opportunity Blaise offered to get Malfoy on his own. He knew he couldn't talk man to man with Malfoy if Hermione wasn't otherwise occupied. He quickly moved across the floor until he found Malfoy chatting amiably with Ginny by the hors d'oeuvres. The sight of them together made the hair on the back stand up painfully.

"Can I have a word?" Harry said upon reaching them. He shot an uneasy smile at Ginny, who had an overwhelming feeling of dread about the two men talking. She doubted it would end well.

Draco nodded slightly and followed Harry towards the stage where the string quartet was performing. When they got to the front of the ballroom, Draco indicated toward a doorway in the wall, and they entered the room he had taken Hermione to the very first night.

Draco took a seat in the armchair, the same as last time, while Harry opted to stand. The raven haired boy-who-lived stuck his hands in his pockets, if only to keep them from balling into angry fists. He knew it wouldn't do to be too emotional with Malfoy. The wealthy wizard had always abhorred emotions, so Harry knew that a logical argument would be more useful to him. This fact didn't stop the rage that filled his chest, though.

"Let me guess, going to forbid me from seeing Hermione?" Draco asked loftily.

"Since when do you call her Hermione?" Harry asked spitefully. "I thought she was always Granger or mudblood to you."

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't say that word. Her blood status has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, doesn't it? I thought the almighty Draco Malfoy had to keep pure the line of Malfoy. Isn't that what your family's little crusade with Voldemort was about?" Harry spat venomously.

Draco was getting upset. He didn't ask to be berated like a common criminal, and he wouldn't stand for it from the ever-sanctimonious Potter. "Little boys shouldn't speak of things they don't understand," Draco warned threateningly.

"I think I know a lot better than most people what you and your sorry excuse for a family are capable of," Harry replied coolly, his casual stance belying the anger he was holding in.

"My _family_?" Draco roared. "My fucking family is none of your business, Potter! Maybe you haven't noticed, but they're all bloody dead! The only good thing in my life is Hermione, and I won't let you threaten me out of her life. I love her, and if you have a problem with that, you can bloody well get the fuck out of my house!" Draco panted, exhausted from expending rage that he had been bottling up for the past few weeks.

Harry recoiled slightly. Between his anger and his admission of his feelings for Hermione, Harry just didn't know what to think or believe. He let the words sink in before responding. "You really mean that?" he asked after a moment. Draco didn't respond. "You really love her?" Harry prodded again.

Draco scowled and said, "As much as a monster like me can love, I suppose." The dejected look on his face was not lost on Harry.

Harry as quiet for a moment, then said, "If you love her, I won't stand in your way." Draco looked up at his foe, an inscrutable look on his face. Harry continued, "But if you hurt her in the slightest way, I'll make you wish you've never been born."

Draco bowed his head and replied, "If I hurt her, I deserve anything you do to me."

Harry seemed satisfied with that and held out a hand to Draco. "Truce? For Hermione's sake I mean."

Draco considered the hand, then took it saying, "Truce."

Harry pulled Draco into a standing position and the two men moved to exit the room. Draco spoke up just before they went back into the ballroom, saying, "Where did you leave Hermione anyway?"

"She's dancing with Blaise," Harry replied, not knowing the implications of what he'd just said.

"Fuck," Draco swore, flying out of the room.

xxx

Hermione unwillingly let herself be guided around the floor by Blaise Zabini. It was very different than dancing with Draco. Blaise's dancing was jerkier and she felt like she was being tugged. It was actually quite uncomfortable, so she was almost relieved when he pulled her to the side to talk.

Blaise walked her to the edge of the room, and backed her into a wall before leaning against it with one arm. "We never finished out conversation the other day, _cara_."

Hermione flinched at his use of the Italian term of endearment. In combination with the way he leered over her she felt quite uncomfortable. "What makes you think I would want to talk to you, Zabini?" she challenged.

"You seemed pretty perceptive to it at the time," he whispered, coming a little too close to her face for comfort. She felt his hot breath on her cheeks and it made her skin prickle in a bad way.

"Sorry for the miscommunication then; I'm with Draco," she replied loftily.

"Why be with a boy, when you could be with a man?" he drawled, grinning lecherously at the little cleavage she was showing. Hermione started to wish her dress was even more modest. She knew she should pump him for information, but she didn't know how to get his one-track mind out of the gutter.

"I have more power than that spoiled brat could ever dream of," Blaise intoned, his lips just inches from her ear. She shuddered slightly in disgust, but Blaise seemed to take it as arousal, because he pulled her out of the ballroom and down the hall.

"Where are you taking me?" she said angrily, trying to rip her hand from his grasp. He was having any of it.

"Hush, _cara,_" he said in a sickeningly soothing voice. "We're just going to your room."

"No!" Hermione yelled, trying once again to pull herself away from him. "I won't let you abduct me."

Blaise stopped cold, turned and cast two spells wandlessly and faster than she could think to pull out her own. "_Silencio! Imperio!_"

Hermione felt an unbelievable calm wash over her body. Her body began to move of its own accord, hand in hand with Blaise, but she couldn't be bothered to care. She felt relaxed and almost happy, and the thought of being controlled by Blaise couldn't have been farther from her mind. She drifted along, as if following her body rather than controlling it. It was almost nice to be free of responsibility and worry.

Before she knew it, they were in her bedroom, and Blaise released her hand. Her body walked over to the bed and lay down. Blaise grinned lecherously from the doorway before quickly joining her, straddling her and forcing his lips onto her own.

A tiny glimmer of doubt appeared in Hermione's mind. He would wrinkle her dress. She realized she didn't want to kiss him. She remembered the person she wanted to kiss. Draco! Her mind began whirring along, trying to fight off the curse. She knew he would realize when the curse was completely broken, but if she could just use her Occlumency skills enough to get control of her left hand…

Hermione flexed her fingers slightly, and they moved, but slowly like through molasses. She pushed a little harder and slipped her hand under the pillow. She very slowly grasped the dagger hidden under there and immediately her mind defogged as her task became clear. She swiftly stabbed Blaise between his ribs, effectively pushing him off her in the process. The Italian man groaned slightly and the air left his body. Hermione realized he was dead.

She immediately fled the room, tripping over the runner as she made her way to the stairs. Looking to make sure no one was on the second floor landing, she collapsed on the stairs between the second and third floor, just out of view from the grand first floor landing. She gasped for breath as she realized what she'd done. She'd taken a life. In all her work for the Order, she'd never purposely taken a life. There had been accidents, of course, but she'd never intentionally snuffed anyone out.

She looked down at her dress and saw the puddle of blood from Blaise. Tears stinging her eyes, she scrubbed and scrubbed at it with her wand until it was invisible, but it didn't seem enough. She rubbed at the material with her hands, sobbing and trying to make the memory of what she'd done disappear.

Soon a hand landed on Hermione's shoulder, scaring her. She pointed her wand at the attacker and realized it was Draco. Fresh tears began to spill and he dropped to her side instantly.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked frantically, grabbing her face in his hands.

"Blaise- took-me-imperio-killed-him," was all she managed to get out between body-wracking sobs.

"Slow down sweetie," Draco soothed, pulling her tear-stained face to his chest. She knew she was staining his ascot, but she couldn't summon the energy to move.

After Hermione calmed down, she explained what happened. Draco's eyes flashed during the tale, but he didn't move, or do anything rash. When she finished talking, she had actually calmed down a lot and felt better to admit it.

Draco calmly explained, "Using an unforgiveable is a life sentence in Azkaban, as is rape. I'm just glad you were strong enough to overcome the imperius curse in time."

Hermione rubbed her temples and said, "At least I managed that. I can't believe I didn't think to draw my wand when he first tried to take me. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" Draco said sweetly. "Let's get you cleaned up and you can hang out with Potter and Ginny."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at that. She didn't think he'd be so kind about her friends, especially Harry. She hugged him as tightly as she could from a sitting position, and let him use _Tergeo_ to clean her face. Then she reciprocated by using _Scourgify _on his ascot and shirt. She actually managed to giggle at the silliness of it all.

Her smile dropped when she realized there was a dead body in her bed. 'What about… Blaise?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'll have Arietta clean everything up, and you can sleep in my bed tonight. No need to worry yourself over it. You were acting in self-defense." Draco pulled her to her feet and held her close. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you," he whispered, his lips close to her ear. Hermione could hear the raw pain in his tone, so she grasped him more tightly.

"Don't worry," she said calmly. "I won't be taken by surprise again."

Draco kissed her on the forehead and led her back to the ballroom. Hermione knew she had cried off all her makeup, but she couldn't care less. Once they got back to the ballroom, Hermione found Ginny and Harry quickly.

"Where's Draco?" Ginny asked, and Hermione turned to see that Draco wasn't actually behind her anymore.

"I don't know," Hermione shrugged. "He probably got caught by someone wanting to talk his ear off."

"Guess that's a side effect of being a millionaire playboy," Harry joked.

Hermione gave a lopsided smile as she remembered accusing Draco with basically those same words not too long ago. So little time had passed, but they'd been through so much already. She hoped that after the night was over, they'd be able to finally settle in and enjoy each other. That is, if he wanted anything to do with her after the curse was broken.

**A/N: Shout out to all my reviewers! Thanks for keeping me sane and invested in the story! The next chapter should be up today as well, once I finish writing it!**


	32. Chapter 32

The party was quite nice, though Hermione knew barely anyone aside from her two friends and her date. Around 11:30 the musicians began packing up, and Hermione knew the witching hour was approaching. The crowds at the party would be going outside for a firework display under the full moon at midnight, while she would be slipping down into the dungeons with Draco.

Hermione looked around, trying to find Draco. She hadn't seen him for a little while, but that was to be expected as he was the host of the party. Hermione found herself recounting the glory days with Harry, trying to ignore the painful memories that accompanied the good ones. Soon it was nearing midnight and the crowds dispersed toward the entranceway. Hermione made her excuses and slipped out the back entrance of the ballroom, heading down the hall toward the dungeon door.

Hermione checked to make sure there was no one following her and opened the dungeon door. Just for good measure, she locked it from the outside with her wand and then lit her wand tip so she could see. She pointed her wand toward the floor to find the stairs, and something red caught her eye.

The stairwell was covered in a path of rose petals. She carefully stepped over them and down the stairs where the once dingy dungeon was softened by candlelight. Hundreds of candles floated near the ceiling, their flames dancing despite the lack of air exchange in the dungeon. In front of her stood Draco with a single red rose. It was exquisitely perfect, and she hesitantly accepted it from her beau.

"I forgot about the rose connection," Hermione said quietly. Draco had thought of everything.

Draco smiled, and said, "The rose was a symbol for Isis, and the ancient Egyptians used to offer roses to the goddess in exchange for her blessing. I guess now we know that Isis' blessing means something more akin to magical abilities, but still." Draco swept Hermione up into his arms, bridal style and walked across the room with her.

Hermione pulled her eyes away from his handsome face just long enough to notice everything else Draco had set up. There was a gorgeous king size bed with scarlet silk sheets and a bouquet of roses next to it. The sheets were covered in rose petals as well, which made Hermione smile. Hermione realized that all those times he'd been missing the past few days, he must have been setting it all up. She noticed below the bed was even a large white rug. He seemed determined to keep her from remembering this was a dungeon. She appreciated the effort.

He set her down gently on the bed, and then knelt next to her on the white rug. He silently lifted her foot and removed one shoe, then the other. He ran his long fingers over her calf and ankle, sending chills up her spine. Hermione sighed happily as he moved to join her on the bed. He lay beside her, his nimble fingers tracing circles over the silk fabric that covered her torso.

Hermione stared up at Draco, the candlelight behind his head causing his hair to grow like a celestial halo. He seemed so beautiful in that moment; she didn't know how she had missed it all those years. She noticed an almost troubled look in his silvery grey eyes.

"What's wrong?' Hermione asked softly, stroking his cheek sweetly.

"Are you sure?" Draco asked nervously. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Hermione paused for a split second before catching his lips in hers. She tugged at his shoulders, pulling him down onto her. He placed his hands on either side of her head to steady himself at the sudden movement. Draco could only take her sudden passion as a 'yes.'

Draco threw himself into the kiss, their tongues vying for dominance. While their mouths were busy, their hands began to roam. Hermione tugged at his ascot, and then slipped his jacket off his shoulders. She made quick work of his buttons next and the crisp white linen shirt ended up discarded along with the jacket and the ascot in a pile on the floor.

Draco pulled Hermione up into a sitting position and began to fumble with the dozen or so tiny buttons that closed her dress. After a moment, he got tired of fiddling and ripped that back open, buttons flying everywhere. Hermione gasped, but couldn't help but be turned on by his fervor. He had bought the dress after all, so it was his to destroy.

Hermione hopped off the bed, holding the top of the dress to her, but once she was standing, she let the heavy fabric fall. Her body was quickly free of the dress which pooled at her feet, revealing the pristine white lingerie beneath.

Her torso was held by a corset tied with silk ribbons. Her thin frame did not need much coercing into a smooth line, but it gave a starch contrast to the curve of her hips. The white stood out against her tanned skin in a way that she would not normally flaunt, but the effect on Draco was obvious from his eyes raking over her figure.

Hermione put her hands on her hips, just above the small lace knickers that went with the corset. If she was going to wear something revealing, she was at least glad the lace pattern on the panties matched the lace pattern on the corset. She was a little uncomfortable showing so much cleavage; the cups in the corset could barely contain the swell or her breasts. With a cheeky look at Draco, she seductively climbed on the bed, straddling him and relishing in the surprised look on his face. This was certainly not her first rodeo.

Draco tried not to drool as Hermione crawled over him. Instead he just observed silently the gorgeous body pressing against him. Her legs stretched for days, accented by the white sheer thigh highs being held up by the corset. He ran his finger between the garter strap and her skin, reveling in the warmth before moving up to her hips. The skin here seemed softer and smoother than anywhere else, and he felt the telltale tingle as their skin interacted.

Hermione gasped above him at the touch, and he moved his hands up the corset to her breasts. They were warmer than the rest of her body, and the connection between them flared up, sending lightning bolts of het and pleasure from his fingertips through his body.

Hermione whimpered something, but he didn't understand it. A moment later, she repeated herself. "How are you doing that?" she asked.

Draco was confused, so he didn't reply, but gave her an odd look. "I can feel it," she explained with a gasp. "I can feel the connection." Her skin was alight with something akin to fire or pure unadulterated energy at his touch.

"I'm not doing anything," he said, his voice uncontrollably husky. He knotted his hands into her hair, and knew from her moan that she was feeling what he was feeling. Whether it was due to the curse or some deep connection between the two, neither cared, but enjoyed the bliss.

Draco flipped Hermione over so that she lay below him, her hair cascading around her angelic face on the silk pillow. Their eyes met in that moment and all hesitancy fell away. Hermione gave herself to Draco and to the feeling and the moment fully, and Draco gave himself to her.

xxx

Arietta ran all over the house, trying desperately to find her Master. She had to let him know she had failed. She had to let him know something had gone horribly wrong.

xxx

Outside the manor, fireworks crashed through the sky, creating cacophony and chaos. Harry grinned as he watched the display, holding Ginny in his broad arms. He wondered for a moment where Hermione had gotten to, but his fleeting thought disappeared as new rockets burst in the air above him. It was simply beautiful.

xxx

Draco's head fell onto Hermione's shoulder in post-coital bliss. "I love you," he whispered, but a bright white light kept him from responding. Draco turned, but kept his body between Hermione and the source of the light, as if attempting to protect her. In the corner of the room, the light coalesced into a body, and a woman with raven black hair stepped out of the misty haze. In her hand she held a rose, and her robes looked ancient, but somehow glowed with a pristine cleanliness.

Draco stood between the woman and the bed, wanting to keep Hermione safe. Somehow in that moment, this was all her could think of. "Stay away from her!" he growled.

The raven haired woman narrowed her eyes slightly, and tipped her head to the side. When she opened them again, he could see her eyes were as black as her hair, no color or pupil to be seen. The sight chilled him to the bone.

"You would sacrifice everything you believe, for this girl?" the woman asked, almost amusedly.

"Of course," Draco replied uncertainly. "I love her."

The woman considered the rose in her hand carefully. "Would you die for her?" she asked.

"In a moment," he replied confidently.

"Then you shall," Isis replied, tossing the rose at his feet.

Draco transformed of no accord on his part, the cracking of his bones accompanied by Hermione's screams behind him. He was immediately and painlessly a snake once again. The difference was, somehow this time he retained his mind and his emotions. His first thought was anger, naturally. He lashed out to attack Isis, but she turned him away with a wave of her hand. He knew he had to get away from Hermione to keep her safe in case he lost control. He slithered quickly toward the stairs, only to find himself face to face with a pair of fine Italian shoes.

Hermione recoiled from the person on the stairs. It wasn't possible. How could he be standing in the dungeon when she knew Blaise Zabini was dead?

**A/N: Sorry this was a little short… watch out for the thrilling conclusion to come later today! There may be two chapters left in all, but I think one will be an epilogue.**


	33. Chapter 33

Hermione's head spun with emotions. She'd gone from elated to terrified to woeful to horrified in less than ten minutes. How could Blaise be alive? She hadn't checked his pulse, but she was sure she'd killed him. Her breath nearly stopped as Blaise pulled out the dagger she had used on him earlier.

"How are you alive?" The words spilled out unbidden, and Hermione was even more afraid to hear the answer.

"Don't wound what you can't kill, princess," Blaise scoffed. He looked down at the serpent at his feet. "So Draco, animagus or just another fucked up outcome of your magic?"

The snake slithered back a few feet and reared its head. Hermione couldn't tell if Draco was going to attack or flee. She didn't even know if he still possessed his own mind or if the serpent was in control.

Blaise laughed darkly and raised the dagger above his head. "_Buona notte_, my old friend. You will not be missed." The dagger swung down towards the serpent that was Draco, and a horrific scream unleashed itself from Hermione's chest. She wailed in pain and horror as the dagger ripped into the snake's scaly flesh over and over until as much red blood as green scales covered the body.

Blaise stood, blood dripping from the dagger and his hands, and moved toward Hermione, seemingly to finish the job. He didn't make it two steps though before he clutched his chest and an agonizing pain flitted across his features. By the third step he had fallen over, dead.

Hermione paid no attention to the dead man on the dungeon floor, for her world was crashing down around her and all she could see was the murdered snake and so much blood. Before she registered moving, she was on top of him, weeping over the snake's body. He was dead and she wouldn't even get the mercy of seeing him human again.

She wept inconsolably, tears obstructing her vision. She didn't care; she didn't need to see. She'd rather go blind than live in a world without Draco. The blood seeped into her bright white lingerie, painting her body scarlet. Unspoken regrets spilled from her eyes, wishing she could see him again, hoping she could somehow save him. He had changed her life and now he was just gone.

She didn't know how long she lay there on top of the cold dead serpent, but she knew one thing that she had been denying herself was true.

"I love you," she whispered, her tears cascading into the open wounds of the serpent which was once her love. Hermione closed her eyes and hugged the body senselessly. Her world had ended and he would never know she truly loved him.

Hermione did not see the white light that filled the room. She did not notice as the body was pulled away from her and into the air. She pressed her face into the cold stone of the dungeon floor as her body was wracked with mournful sobs. She did not see the transformation of a lifetime as serpent became man. It wasn't until she felt strong hands on her shoulders that she even turned her head.

There before her, dressed in splendid white was her Draco. His hair was pristine and backlit, giving him that angelic appearance that she so adored. She lay there, gasping on the floor, not understanding what had taken place. Was he a ghost? He had to be a ghost, she decided. She hadn't been able to save him and now he would be trapped here in the Manor for eternity with his absolute bint of a mother. This was almost worse to her than him just being dead.

He smiled that indescribable Malfoy smiled and waved a hand in her direction. She stood by no effort of her own and felt the tears dry on her cheeks. She looked down and the blood was gone from her lingerie and her skin. Her hair had been cleaned of the blood and restored to its usual kinky wild curls. Her eyes simply gaped at the man or ghost before her. She couldn't fathom what was going on.

He pulled her close, and soundlessly took her lips with his own. She felt the heat beneath them, felt their supple softness. How could it be? Her mind raced with the possibilities. Could he really be alive? A moment later she pulled away and found that they had apparated to the ballroom and she was once again in her dress, but it was no longer green. Instead it was a molten silver color, a color so beautiful it was rivaled only by the hue in Draco's eyes.

Music began to play from somewhere unseen and they danced, or rather Draco led them in a dance and she simply stared inelegantly at him, confused beyond any confusion she'd ever felt. Hermione Granger did not get confused. Hermione granger got answers at all costs.

"How-?" she began, only to be silenced by a look from Draco.

"You weren't the sacrifice, love," he replied. "I was."

"What?" Hermione asked stupidly. She couldn't even form all the questions that were swimming around her brain.

"A life was taken that night so long ago, and tonight I gave my life for you. Your love saved me. Once again, you've saved my life, love. I wouldn't have it any other way." Draco stared down at her with such passion and devotion that her heart overflowed with happiness. "You are what broke the curse. You made me love you, something I would never have fathomed before. And yet here I am, back from the dead, dancing with my beloved. I would never have imagined the love of my life would be Hermione Granger."

"You're rather eloquent for someone who just came back from death's door," Hermione said faintly. Her confusion and yearning for answers was only surpassed by her love and happiness in that moment. She decided there would be time for answers later. She rested her head on Draco's chest, and he led them to the window where they watched the end of the fireworks show, even though they couldn't compare to the fireworks they were feeling.

xxx

The next morning, Hermione rolled over in Draco's master bedroom to find him safe and sound beside her. She had feared that the end of the night had been just a dream, a happy consolation by her grieving heart. But there he was, sleeping peacefully by her side. He stirred and she froze, not wanting to wake him.

He spoke before his eyes were even open. "Staring at me in my sleep now?" He opened his eyes a little and took in the brunette sitting over him. Her curls fell rapturously around her shoulders, making her look like some kind of goddess in a painting. He yearned to wind his fingers in them, but knew that the answers he had promised last night would be at the front of her mind this morning.

"How did Blaise survive me stabbing him?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not sure,' Draco replied honestly. "He must have played dead long enough to heal himself. Or he could have used some dark magic. I'm not sure we'll ever know."

"Then why did he just drop dead when he stabbed you?" Hermione asked.

"_Accio Dagger_," Draco called, and a moment later the hilt of the digger landed in his outstretched hand. "This dagger belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw and imbued with the magic of the four Founders of Hogwarts. She gave it to the Bloody Baron as payment for returning her daughter Helena, but in his madness, he killed Helena with it. Ever since then, if the dagger is used for anything less than justice, the person who wields it suffers the same fate as the victim. I can only assume that my murder was not deemed just, and that's why he died."

"Wow," Hermione breathed, touching the sapphires in the hilt. "Why didn't I get hurt when I used it on Blaise?"

"That was justice, love. You were protecting yourself," Draco replied simply.

"I know we talked about it last night," Hermione said, "but I still can't fathom how you are alive."

"When Blaise stabbed me, or rather the snake," Draco explained, "I found myself in a place filled with warm white light. It was so calming and reassuring somehow. I just knew I had died…."

_Draco looked around the place. There were no discernable walls or anything that he recognized. He couldn't fathom how he got out of the dungeon and back into his own body, but here he stood, perfectly healthy and dressed in pure white. He had to be dreaming, because he would never wear this much white. It washed him out._

_A woman appeared a few feet away. She too wore all white, but her hair was as dark as the deepest night. Her eyes were vaguely familiar, but he didn't think he knew her._

"_Draco," she greeted him, extending a hand for him to hold. "I am Isis."_

_Draco tried to probe his memory, but could not find any information about her. He had an inkling she was important though._

"_You may not remember just now," she continued, "But you do know me. I have had your family under a curse for hundreds of years."_

"_So I failed?" he asked sadly. "Have I doomed my family?"_

"_No, my boy. Come with me." Hand in hand they walked a ways, but the scenery was still blank. "What do you see?" she asked._

_Draco looked around and a scene began to unfold. There was a long rolling field, as green as could be and dotted with yellow flowers. At the horizon there were trees, and under a willow tree he saw a silhouette. "I see a field with trees. And there's someone just there," he replied, pointing._

"_Do you know who it is?" Isis asked._

_Draco squinted, and realized he would know that silhouette anywhere. "It's Hermione."_

"_You died for her, you know," Isis said plainly. "You made good on your promise to me, so I want to give you a choice. Turn around. Do you see that white expanse?" Draco turned, and then nodded. "You can go there, and greet whatever it is that awaits mortals after death. Or, you can go to her." She pointed at the silhouette under the willow tree. "And you can live the rest of your life, knowing that one day you will die and have to return here."_

_Draco's mind was still cloudy. He tried to remember Hermione. His first memory was her hair. It was wild and kinky and gorgeous and unruly and he loved winding his fingers in it. And the tiny freckles across her face and her shoulders; he loved them the most. And her sweet lips that made his heart sing. Everything about her was magic. She was like a perfume that doesn't wash off. She had invaded his senses, his heart, his mind, and in that moment he knew he could not go on without her. _

_He decided that she was worth mortality and the suffering that life brought. She was worth the danger he'd be in with the Death Eaters over Blaise's death. But he didn't care. He would face everything with her by his side._

_Draco nodded, and wordlessly walked toward the silhouette. The closer he got, the farther she seemed. He started running, and her body fell forward. He could see the sobs shaking her delicate form. He pushed himself farther and finally broke through the scene before him and found himself standing before his beloved._

"So I decided to come back and be with you, Hermione," he finished.

His story had brought joyful tears to Hermione's eyes. Embracing him, she whispered "You're my home. This is where I want to be forever. As long as you trust, me you know I won't run away. I know you made a huge choice to come back to me and I just need to say you say I've changed you, but I've been changed to. My whole life I've wanted adventure in the great wide somewhere, but now I know I've found home. Here in your arms is everything I've ever dreamed of. Dare I say, our love is the grand adventure I've always hoped for?" Hermione giggled as he tugged her over into a heart-stopping kiss.

"How could anyone love a man like me?" he asked.

"I'm not just anyone," she pouted. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Not for long, I hope," Draco commented quietly.

"What?" Hermione asked, not hearing him. He grabbed her around the waist and the next thing she knew, they were on top of the Manor on an observatory that she never knew existed.

"You've got to tell me how you apparate in the house and so smoothly," she commented, looking around at the fresh new day blooming. She could see in every direction, and despite the sprawling view, there were no other houses. She wondered if Draco owned all of the land.

"I do own it all," Draco commented, having read her thoughts. "But I don't want it just to myself. I want to share it." He knelt down in front of Hermione, whose breath hitched in her throat. "I know it's soon, but if I've learned anything from this ordeal it's that I shouldn't take anything for granted. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Hermione. Will you marry me?"

In a feat of wandless magic, he conjured a golden band with a single solitary diamond. On either side of the stone were an emerald and a garnet, and she knew instantly that it symbolized the union of such different houses and beliefs and people. Somehow it seemed perfect, so she said yes.

Draco grabbed his new fiancée by the waist and swung her around in the light of the rising sun. His outlook on life had just gotten a lot brighter.

**A/N: *sobs* that's it! Maybe an epilogue just to tie up loose ends, but this is the end of the tale. I hope you enjoyed it, and I really appreciate all the wonderful reviews. You guys rock!**


	34. Epilogue

**A/N: This epilogue is dedicated to my reviewers! Thanks for taking this from a partial doodle to a full blown story. I love you all!**

xxx

**The Daily Prophet**

**November 1, 2002**

**Known Death Eater Found Dead**

_Known Death Eater and high society member Blaise Zabini was found dead in his home this morning. The cause of death is said to be a heart-attack, which is commonplace in the muggle world, but often seen in Wizards, especially of such a young age. Zabini is survived by his mother, Adelina, who has yet to announce any funeral arrangements._

**November 10, 2002**

**Malfoy and Granger Announce Their Engagement**

_Lauded war heroine Hermione Granger and former Death Eater announced their engagement today, in a union that has the Wizard World on its head. The union came as much of a surprise to most, though some close friends expressed their excitement for the couple. "They've grown to be a perfect match, and I'm so happy for them!" said Ginevra Weasley, best friend of the bride-to-be. _

_Even the Boy-Who-Lived offered a comment after four years of avoiding all press. Harry Potter said of the couple, "It came as a surprise to me at first, but I know Draco has grown out of the childhood beliefs forced on him by his family, and I'm glad to say they're very happy together." Will this shocking couple make it down the aisle? This reporter has high hopes for the lovers, and looks to a time when couplings like this will be commonplace in these uncertain times. They certainly have set the tone for a new age of tolerance and respect._

**January 15, 2003**

**Ground Breaks on New Malfoy Inc. Development**

_The Malfoy Corporation broke ground on a new project this week, surprisingly on Draco Malfoy's property. The many acre estate will now be home to many new buildings, which will house a school for magical children as well as low-income housing for witches and wizards in need. The project seems to have been spearheaded by Draco Malfoy's soon-to-be-wife, Hermione Granger. In her younger days she crusaded for house-elf rights, and now seems to be helping her betrothed to renew the Malfoy name. _

_The groundbreaking was just another step in the groundbreaking reforms the company has gone through over the past few months. The company has aligned itself with quite a few charities not to mention its new standard for ethical testing practices in all of its plants. It looks like a bright future for the new image of Malfoy Inc._

**March 9, 2003**

**Malfoy Wedding Wows Guests, Dignitaries**

_Hermione Granger wed Draco Malfoy last night in a gorgeous ceremony at Malfoy Manor. The blushing bride wore a white antique lace dress that sources say belonged to her mother. Her parents, Monica and Wendell Granger were in attendance, thanks to special permission from the Ministry of Magic. It seems the war heroine got special dispensation to have the muggles at a magical wedding, which is not commonly allowed. However, considering the witch's help in eradication of the Death Eater threat earlier this year, along with the Order of the Phoenix, Minister Shacklebolt felt the permission was a small way to repay her for her efforts. _

_The ceremony was simple and elegant, ending with the traditional binding of the magic between bride and groom. The event culminated with an aerial show by the maid of honor's Quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies. Harry Potter, the best man, raised a heartfelt toast to the couple at the lavish reception that left not a dry eye in the room. We at the Daily Prophet wish the best to the couple, who are expecting their first child in July._

xxx

Hermione opened her exhausted eyes to see her husband holding their newborn daughter. Draco smiled through tear-filled eyes before handing the babe to Hermione. Hermione's eyes coursed with happy tears as she looked into the bright grey eyes of her daughter. She ran her fingers gingerly through the brown hair on the baby's head, already swirling into gentle curls.

"She's beautiful," Hermione sighed happily.

"Just like her Mother," Draco replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead sweetly.

"But she has your eyes, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione replied with a grin.

"Well, Mrs. Malfoy, as long as she doesn't have my chin, she'll be beautiful like you," Draco commented, his eyes still glued to the tiny child in his wife's arms.

"What should we name her?" Hermione asked, knowing soon they'd need to fill out a birth certificate.

"How about we name her after you?" he suggested.

"Hermione?"

"No, your alter ego, Bella," Draco said with a smirk.

"Too lose to Bellatrix," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose. "But what about Belle Rosalyn Malfoy?"

"I'll call her Rosie," Draco mused, touching the baby's chubby cheeks.

"She's our perfect little miracle baby. A little curse-breaker already," Hermione said with a laugh. "Now our family's complete."

"Oh, I'm gonna want at least a couple more," Draco said, earning a slap from his wife.

"It'll be a long time before I go through this again!" she said mirthfully.

"I love you," Draco said, kissing her happily.

"I love you too," Hermione replied.


End file.
